Two Weeks Notice
by maleshka
Summary: Tony has finally reached boiling point and hands in his resignation. Gibbs has two weeks to change his mind. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

_**Set just after 'Cloak' but also a sort of follow-on from my other story 'Quiet Anger' which some people wanted to see continued.**_

_**Tony's been having a hell of a time and ponders his options.**_

_**This is angst, and Tony's musings on his team are being drawn out of anger at a specific moment in time – this isn't going to be an 'I hate everybody, no-one understands me' story. As the story develops so will his true feelings.**_

* * *

Tony had been having a bad week…no…scratch that, a really bad couple of years! But this week was the one that finally pushed him over the edge of the cliff he was delicately balancing on. Before this week, the team had been working almost non-stop cases for nearly a month. None of them were straight forward and all required plenty of heavy investigative work. It was exhausting!

When the back-to-back cases had finally died down, they weren't given a few days to catch up on sleep or to relax, oh no! Vance, the fucking toothpick Nazi wanted them to catch up on paperwork and wrap up a few cold-cases. Even his _'work smarter, not harder'_ motto had proved ineffective against the wall of paperwork Vance had assigned them. As the senior field agent, naturally he had more paperwork to do than McGee and Ziva, but that didn't stop their smug little remarks being tossed his way.

Oh how he wanted to hit something. The Israeli Ninja and the Probie had gone home over half an hour ago and Gibbs was…Tony looked around the bull-pen…not here! Probably out getting coffee or working up some other super-secret scheme with the toothpick-man that he would not be privy to.

He got up slowly, trying to ignore his bruises, just because the bullets weren't real it didn't mean the whole exercise hadn't hurt…and the butt of the gun certainly had. He slung his jacket on the back of his chair and headed to the gym…he really did need to hit something!

* * *

After a quick change into an old t-shirt and some sweats from his locker he headed over to the punch-bag and without even hesitating to warm up pummelled it with all his might, bruises temporarily forgotten. While punching it did help ease some of the tension in his body, his mind was still going at 180mph.

Everything was a mess and had been for a while…since Jenny died, since Jeanne and the whole _la Grenouille_ fiasco, hell…since Gibbs ran away to Mexico. And Vance…the punch-bag received its strongest blow yet…stupid, arrogant, smug asshole of a toothpick chewing fuckwit…_I hope you swallow that damn pick and choke to death_, Tony thought darkly.

His punches increased in intensity and the effort was so great that his air-hungry lungs were beginning to burn with sheer physical exertion.

He thought about Vance…_thump_…who had never hidden his complete and utter disdain for Tony…_thwack!_

He thought about Ziva…_thump_…who had seemingly lost some part of herself when she was forced to return to Tel Aviv…_thump_…and whom he could not honestly deny his growing feelings for…_thwack!_ Stupid conflicted emotions…_thump_…he threw in another punch just for that reason.

McGee…_thump_…_thump_…the Probie was all grown up and had a back-bone and a newly developed almost _overly _confident demeanour…and was fast becoming a mini-Vance…_thwack_…smug, condescending and arrogant. His ripostes were never said in jest, there was always an undercurrent of superiority and cruelty there these days…_thump_…_'temporary team-leader'_…_THWACK!_

Lee, _his _Probie, the one _he_ helped train…_thump_…how could he not have seen it? How could he not have known? He had liked her, found her overly timid and not the most effective field agent, but she herself…as a person…_thump_…poor Jimmy! Heartbroken!

Gibbs…_thump_…_thump_…_thwack_…Tony even kicked the bag for good measure. Vance he could understand, Vance hated Tony, always had, right from the get-go. But for Gibbs to lie to Tony like that, for Gibbs to _betray _him like that…_thwack_…that was unforgivable! He ran away to Mexico…_thump_…leaving him high and dry with a team that didn't respect him or trust him as they should…_thump_…he comes back with no thanks and no apologies and throws Tony to the side…_thwack_…he throws himself headlong in that case with Maddie with no regard for his team…_thump_…all of it…too much of it.

This fake little set-up of his was just the final nail to Tony's coffin; a coffin that contained his faith in Gibbs and his respect for the man; a coffin that contained his confidence in the benefits of a team; a coffin that contained his trust in NCIS and the belief that his life was not some expendable commodity; a coffin that would contain his body if he didn't do something.

_THWACK!_

"Ow…Goddammit!" He nestled his right hand to his left shoulder briefly, breathing through the pain. Once his breathing had evened out slightly he spared a glance at the damage he had done to himself. His favoured right hand had taken most of the damage…he couldn't even remember when the skin had broken and the blood had started to slowly seep through the cracks. Where the skin was still intact, it was rubbed raw around the knuckles, red and angry. His left hand was not bleeding, having been spared the more forceful punches, but it was also red and angry and likely to bruise.

On the positive side the bruises Tony had suffered during the fake military facility infiltration stunt were not now at the forefront in his mind. Even his concussion had melted to the point that when he caught some movement in his peripheral vision when he sharply turned to meet it he was not met with crippling pain.

Gibbs was standing in the shadows of the corner by the exit; Tony couldn't leave without passing him. His boss' eyes contained some emotion that Tony couldn't and probably wouldn't want to be able to read. He contemplated carrying on with the punch-bag just so he could both prove a point and avoid Gibbs' probing questions, but his hands were screaming for a rest and his burning lungs demanded some quiet corner somewhere.

Gibbs looked at his senior field agent and saw that he had reached his limits today; his t-shirt was drenched with sweat and his unprotected hands were suffering the effects of his quick, harsh workout. No doubt DiNozzo would head out tonight; a different girl from a different bar would help and his agent would be back on top form tomorrow.

He didn't regret keeping Tony in the dark about the DOMINO play; he wanted…no…_needed_ to find out the truth about Langer, his agent when the others were away. He could see no other way around it. But he had seen Tony's anger bubbling; he knew that despite the shouting and the heated words that DiNozzo's anger hadn't really erupted. A lot of what was bothering Tony was, as usual, kept firmly beneath the surface.

Tony studied Gibbs studying him, but saw nothing in his expression that Tony wanted to see; no remorse and no apologies - typical Gibbs. He supposed the fact that his boss came looking for him said something, but he'd be damned if he could say what, and to be honest he just couldn't find it in him to care.

He had been used and abused by two NCIS Directors and his boss, he'd been royally screwed over…numerous times…by said boss, and treated with casual indifference or downright disdain from time to time by his team members. Eight years…_eight!_ And where had that gotten him? _What _had that gotten him? Plague-ridden lungs, a concussion every other week and greater trust issues than when he started. He looked at his boss, trying to find some semblance of the man, of the _agent _that he used to want to be; at that moment in time he saw nothing in the man to redeem himself in Tony's eyes.

He walked passed Gibbs ignoring the raised eyebrow and small quirk on his lips. Tony ignored Gibbs who was standing to one side in the changing rooms and who asked quietly with a slightly amused tone whether or not he was too old to throw a sulking fit. Ha! Like he was one to talk…Mr _I-Didn't-Get-My-Own-Way-My-Pride-Has-Been-Hurt-So-I'm-Going-To-Run-Away-To-Mexico_ Gibbs! As he moved to get by his boss for a second time, Gibbs reached out and grabbed Tony's arm, turning his agent towards him to try and get the man to speak. Mistake!

Tony was furious. He had worked with Gibbs for _eight_ years and the guy grabs him when he's this worked up? _Does the man not know anything about me_, Tony thought mutinously. He wrenched his arm from Gibbs' firm grip, threw his best lethal glare at the older man and headed for the bullpen, ignoring Gibbs' sharp _'DiNozzo'_ as he went.

Gibbs could not believe Tony was acting like this; he was the boss and therefore he would decide what his team were and were not aware of. He briefly wondered whether or not he had done the right thing in bringing Tony back from being an Agent Afloat, but quickly stomped that thought down, knowing it was one made in anger and not his true feelings on the matter.

He by-passed the elevator and took the stairs after his wayward agent to make sure he didn't miss him. Gibbs was relieved to see Tony sit down at his desk and rifle through the mounds paperwork on it.

However, Tony was only sifting through the mounds of paperwork on his desk to find his keys. He was going home, but before he did that he had to give something to Gibbs. He went into his bottom desk draw and removed the medals; underneath the medals sat two narrow white envelopes with _'To Special Agent Gibbs'_ on one and _'To Director Shepherd'_ on the other.

Ok…so he'd need one new envelope, but in all fairness they had been written a while ago. He found another envelope and simply put _'Vance'_ on the front; he could not bear the thought of putting Director in front of _that_ name! He had the same letters on his computer and sent both of them via e-mail.

He looked at Gibbs who had settled back down into his own mess of paperwork, avidly pretending that he didn't need glasses. With him temporarily distracted, Tony went up the stairs to Vance's office and shoved the envelope under the locked office door. Returning to his desk, he picked up the other envelope and headed over to Gibbs' desk; his boss was now openly watching him with both curiosity and confusion written plainly across his face. He handed him the envelope.

"This is my resignation from NCIS. You have two weeks to find another Senior Field Agent, cos after that…I'm gone!" He turned back to his own desk and moved to gather his things together.

"I won't accept it!" came Gibbs' quiet, determined response.

Tony didn't even try to feign any politeness or patience. "Drop the arrogance Gibbs, it's not your call; the Director" (he spat _those_ words out, and saw his boss wince at the direction the conversation was going) "makes that decision not you, and I think we both know what The Toothpick will say don't we." He saw Gibbs stand, attempting to follow him, to _reason_ with him. "I've had a rough day and it's been a long week, I need my rest so no late night visits thanks." With that he turned and headed for the lift down to the parking garage, anger still bubbling underneath the surface.

Gibbs was shocked into total stillness. Tony couldn't quit, he _wouldn't_…would he? He looked at the envelope in his hands and couldn't get his mind to comprehend what he was actually holding. He slipped it, unopened, into his desk drawer, turned off his computer, grabbed his jacket and headed for the lift. He had two weeks to talk his agent out of this awful decision, starting tonight.

* * *

_**There you go…first chapter!**_

_**Let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up - will Tony appreciate his late night caller and how will the team react to the news?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks to all who reviewed and to all those who added story alerts and such – it is always nice to know people are enjoying the story.**_

_**I would just like to point out to those who have mentioned it in their reviews – yes, I do know that Tony is not perfect and I do know that he was not the only one affected by previous events, but this is a story primarily from his point of view, and it has barely even started yet.**_

_**Tony is trying to convince himself he made the right decision and Gibbs shows up uninvited – uh oh!**_

* * *

Tony was sitting down on his sofa in the dark, the streetlight outside emitting a pale glow. He was in shock; had he really just handed in his resignation to Gibbs? Was he making the worst decision of his career?

No..no! What else could he do? He couldn't work with a team that didn't trust him and that he wasn't sure _he_ could trust. He certainly couldn't trust Vance! The stupid toothpick munching fuckwit had brought nothing but bad changes since he had arrived; the splitting up of the team, the obvious stroking of McGee's ego creating Mr McGee and Agent McJekyll, and now this stupid bullshit war plan.

He scrubbed at his eyes, hard, as if he could erase all the crap that had happened over the past couple of years. As he had told Ziva in that lift, he'd had enough of secret agendas, he'd had his fill of all the lying and he certainly couldn't handle anymore manipulation. He was tired…beyond tired…he was exhausted, and he was pissed off that the politics were being put before the agents.

He leant back, closed his eyes and thought over the past couple of years. He almost, _almost_ hated Jenny for the whole la Grenouille thing, certainly for the way things turned out with Jeanne. But he could understand it; he's had his own fair share of demons that continue to haunt him and if given a chance to quieten some of them he was sure he would take it. He _did_ hate the fact that the real identity of who The Frog was to Jenny was kept hidden from him, and that he had to find it out later, much later…too late to change his mind about his involvement in the operation.

He _did _hate himself for how he acted in Los Angeles. He was well aware that _that_ was the first time he acted on his growing lack of trust in his superiors, and the results were disastrous. He didn't want to get involved with anymore of the Director's personal mess, but still…Tony couldn't stop blaming himself…he should have _been_ there!

He remembered Gibbs' face when he entered the diner and saw where she died alone, noticed the blood she had lost, imagined the pain she was in. He _completely _hated himself for helping to put that look on his boss' face. The guilt that caused almost destroyed him, especially when he was all alone on the 5,000 strong warship, with no-one to distract him and nothing else to think about.

At first, Tony thought that nothing could possibly be better than coming back and working with the team, but being there in the bullpen…working with a newly distant Ziva, a smug McGee and an altered, even less demonstrative Gibbs, working for that arrogant toothpick prick…he remembered all the reasons he was beginning to doubt his place at NCIS in the first place; reasons which continued to increase. From Gibbs running away to Mexico, to the Grenouille operation and Jeanne getting caught in the crossfire, to Jenny's death in LA, to the new team dynamic that was completely off kilter to this stupid fucking war game. Really what reason did he have to stay?

He slipped his jacket off and left it to crease between him and the sofa. He was slowly loosening his tie when he heard footsteps stopping outside his door and the scraping of a key in the lock. He knew who it was without even looking and couldn't help but release a disgusted snort.

"Did you not hear me earlier Gibbs, I _told_ you not to come over tonight yet you come anyway; for _once_ can't you just respect my wishes!" Tony didn't even try to censor his anger; he was pissed and Gibbs _would_ know it!

Gibbs was momentarily stunned by the vehemence in Tony's voice, but quickly recovered; "You drop a bombshell like that and you expect me not to react to it?" He asked it as a question but he wasn't really asking; his senior field agent knew him well and would know that Gibbs would try to get to the bottom of this as quickly as he could…that is after all why he told his boss the door would not be open to him tonight.

"I would _expect_ you to honour my privacy; you barge into _my_ place, knowing you are not welcome and start asking _me_ the questions. Well I have one of my own Gibbs…why the hell do you give a damn if I decide to leave NCIS?"

That was the last question Gibbs expected; although he wasn't a particularly demonstrative man (except with Abby), he had always assumed that his agents knew how he felt about them…after all, he had fought tooth and nail to get them reunited as a team hadn't he! Tony was different to the others though; eight years was a hell of a long time to be watching someone's back and Tony had done that and more during his time at NCIS. How could he ever doubt his place on the team?

"You're _my_ senior field agent Tony; you think I'm not gonna fight to keep you?" he asked quietly, almost afraid to hear what Tony truly thinks. "Eight years we've been working together, and you want to throw all that away over some stupid war game?"

"No…eight years I've been working _for_ you; we're only a team when you see fit. You don't trust me Gibbs, as that _'stupid war game'_ proved, and you know what…I don't think I can trust you anymore either!" Tony didn't have the energy for this talk right now…maybe if he punched him? Oh yeah…he'd shredded his hands earlier, and as Ziva had pointed out he has no military training…Gibbs would knock him on his ass in three seconds flat.

Gibbs could hear the fatigue in his agent's voice, but knew he had to try and get through to Tony as soon as he could. "Tony, I already told you, it wasn't because I didn't trust you…"

"No!" interrupted Tony, "It was because you didn't _have_ to tell us! What the hell kind of a reason is that Gibbs?"

"Probably just as valid as the reason you didn't tell me about the Frog op!" Gibbs momentarily lost his temper and regretted it instantly when he saw the look in Tony's eyes, a mixture of pain, anger and betrayal.

"Don't you _dare_," Tony shouted, not caring if he woke up the neighbours; he was past caring about too many things now, that's why he knew he had to leave NCIS. "Don't you dare throw that op. in my face! It was need to know only and Jenny said you didn't…this wasn't need to know Gibbs; you just decided _not_ to tell us.

"You know I never would have even been given that damn assignment in the first place if you hadn't run away to Mexico. Then you come back and you just throw me to the side like holding the team together for four months didn't mean anything to you…no thanks, no apologies…nothing! I turned down a fucking Rota promotion for you, out of loyalty, and I honestly think that was one of the most idiotic decisions of my career!"

Once the wounds opened, Tony found all the pain he had kept inside, kept silent, erupt out of him. "You know why I didn't follow Jen in LA, why I was so goddamn reluctant to see what was going on? Cos I didn't want to get dragged down by her personal mess again; I didn't _trust_ her not to screw me over…_again_! That whole operation nearly destroyed me Gibbs…I could see myself marrying her," there was no need to say which 'her' he was talking about. "We were talking about buying a house together for God's sake…and I had to lie to her everyday, about everything! I had to lie to her, I had to lie to you, I had to lie to the whole damn team…everyone I cared about, I had to lie to. You have _no_ idea what that op. did to me Gibbs" he ended, almost brokenly.

Gibbs was having difficulty taking it all in. Jenny had told him upon his return that Tony had done a good job holding the team together and that it merited an acknowledgment…and he did nothing, said nothing; he hoped his inaction hadn't cost him his agent. Although it delivered a bitter sting, Gibbs knew Tony was absolutely correct when he said that Gibbs' presence would have stopped Jen from using Tony for the op. He knew there was nothing he could do about it, but if Gibbs could spare Tony the pain he now knew the young man possessed he would change things in a heartbeat.

Then what did he say? Oh yeah…_Tony_ was offered a _Rota_ promotion? And Tony turned it down because of _him_? Fuck, he hadn't seen that coming, but if he was honest, Gibbs was secretly very glad his agent had decided to stick around.

He could understand the LA mess; _he_ had lost a lot of faith in his old partner since he discovered the truth about her and the Grenouille operation; especially after René Benoit's murder. However, Gibbs had thought that with time the wounds caused by the abrupt and brutal end to Tony and Jeanne's serious relationship would heal; he was shocked to see how affected the younger man still was! But he didn't know how to help him heal, and he certainly didn't know how to tell the younger man that he had and would always have Gibbs' complete and utter faith in him.

"Tony, there were dangers, Lee…she'd already killed, I couldn't let…" he paused, knowing that a rephrase would be in order, "…I couldn't _risk_ any one of you if she thought we suspected her. It was never about trust, Tony. I fought against Vance to get you back because there's _no-one_ I trust _more!_" He was desperate to get Tony to understand his place on the team, he hasn't felt this much anxiety since he got the call about Shannon and Kelly; he wouldn't lose Tony too!

Tony was beyond exhausted, and as much as he tried to follow what Gibbs was saying, as much as he wanted to believe what little he _had_ heard, he just didn't have the energy. He sighed and sank down on the sofa, head in his hands.

"Please Gibbs, just go; I need my bed. We've got fourteen days to sort through things; I'm sure whatever you've got to say can wait until tomorrow." He did not look at his boss, and so missed the look of anguish that passed over the normally stoic façade.

Gibbs looked at his agent and took in the exhaustion, this time he acknowledged it and nodded slowly. "Ok Tony," he said softly, "but we will carry on this discussion…we need to!" He had heard the defeat in Tony's voice, heard it and winced at it, and he knew that the younger man hadn't believed anything Gibbs had told him. However, Gibbs would say it again, and more, until Tony took back the envelope and tore it up in front of him. He gave a rather subdued _'goodnight,'_ he received no response from his agent so he left quickly and quietly.

On the other side of the door he looked at his watch, 3.17am. He had just less than fourteen days to stop this madness; he only hoped that he wasn't too late!

* * *

_**Let me know what you think!**_

_**Next up…the count down begins! The team finds out! And Abby stomps her feet and plots 101 ways Vance could die by toothpick!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks to all who reviewed and story alerted and what not. **_

_**The team find out about Tony's resignation but so does Vance - they all react in their own way.**_

_**FOURTEEN DAYS TO GO**_

* * *

__After leaving Tony's apartment, Gibbs headed straight back to NCIS; he picked the lock to Vance's office and scooped up the envelope resting on the floor. It was such an innocuous thing, an envelope, but they could contain so many different things…the sadness and separation caused every time he received military orders that would take him away from his wife and child; potentially fatal dangers like the whole Y-Pestis disaster; they could also contain words and emotions that should never have come to fruition, like the one he was holding in his hands now.

He was almost tempted to read it; curious to see if Tony would tell Vance what he truly thought about the man's position as director now that he truly believed he had nothing left to lose here. He restrained himself though, knowing that Tony's faith in him was hanging by a shoestring, if not completely severed already. Walking back to his desk, he stuffed the envelope in with his own…_both_ would remain unopened, he swore to himself.

He knew the coming day would be tense and emotional for all involved; if he was going to face this he would need to be able to do so wide awake and fully aware. Abby's futon looked a likely prospect…he certainly didn't fancy a cold, hard autopsy table.

The lab was odd at this time of night…or morning. The soft glow of the streetlamps outside made little impact due to the small nature of the windows at the very top of the walls; besides those small beams that made it through and a few multi-coloured lights from various pieces of machinery, most of the lab was cloaked in darkness. It was eerily quiet too, mainly because there was no Abby…no hardcore metal, no foot-tapping, no Caff-Pow induced rants…if he didn't know better he would swear this wasn't Abby's lab at all…the silence was almost unnerving.

He made his way through the darkness to where he knew the futon was, moved down to pull it out and…grabbed a fist-full of his sleepy gothic lab-tech, causing a little squeak.

"Wha'sa?" she asked; the shock of being grabbed woke her up quickly, but her voice was still sleep-ridden and her eyes still bleary as she tried to make out a face in the dark.

"Abby? What the hell are you still doing here?" Gibbs was a little surprised to still see her here. Everyone had had a hellish week, Abby worst of all; finishing a string of heavy-duty cases Vance had them working cold-cases, which meant that Abby had to re-examine a whole load of old evidence from several different investigations…ignoring the degradation of biological evidence and the tainting from previous analysts. She had also had her own role to play in the war-game.

"I _was_ sleeping…what are _you_ doing here Gibbs?" she asked in a tone that only she could get away with.

"I was _going_ to sleep" he answered evasively. He couldn't tell Abby, not yet; he knows she'll end up an emotional wreck tomorrow…the least he can do is let her have a good night's sleep first. Besides, if he told her now she'd march straight over to DiNozzo's; he's not sure Tony would react well to another late night visitor tonight…even if it _was_ Abby.

"Why here?" Abby demanded; she was too sleepy to notice Gibbs' misdirection.

"Why are _you_ sleeping here?"

"I was running some searches and then…bam…exhaustion struck! I was even too tired to go find me a Caff-Pow." She fell back into her futon and a very loud fart broke the silence that permeated the lab. "Bert's my pillow" she explained, as if sleeping on a farting hippopotamus on a futon on the floor of a laboratory in a federal building was an everyday occurrence. She scooted over as far to the side as she could without falling off. "There might just be room for another if we both sleep on our sides, but if you try anything Special Agent Gibbs, I'll scream and scream until I'm sick" she teased, seemingly haven forgotten her unanswered questions.

Gibbs was glad the questions had stopped but knew neither one of them would get any sleep if they both tried to fit on that futon. "It's ok Abs, I'm gonna head back to my desk." He gave her a quick peck on the forehead and headed out of the lab before she could argue.

He rolled up his jacket and made a small pillow of his own; it was no farting hippo but it would have to do. He tried to slow-down his mind, which was still reeling over Tony's decision and the following outburst. Closing his eyes he tried to fall asleep on the floor, as he had done so before many times under his boat, many times during his military career and many times on this very spot. Eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep, fraught with anxiety over the whole situation involving his senior field agent.

* * *

He awoke early with a slight crick in his neck and a stiff back. Coffee…he needed coffee now! A quick glance at his watch told him it was just before six; definitely not enough sleep. He'd have to make do with some weak mush from the nearby machine until his favourite shop was open. A nice long shower would help ease out those kinks and get him ready to face the upcoming trials.

* * *

Third cup of coffee in one hand and a Caff-Pow in the other, Gibbs walked back into NCIS a little more relaxed. He had a game-plan; _'Operation Talk to Ducky'_…that was it so far, not much…but the talkative doctor was far better with words and certainly more capable of approaching a situation like this one with the appropriate level of sensitivity that he, _'second 'B' for bastard'_ Gibbs was not gifted with.

He dropped by autopsy first to see if Ducky was in yet; the doctor was not there but Jimmy was, working at the desk…he was pretending to work at any rate, staring through his work rather than at it. Gibbs felt a little sorry for the young man; finding out your girlfriend was a traitor _and_ that she had a daughter you never knew about all in one sitting must have been pretty hard. He knew he wouldn't have any appropriate words of comfort for the young man, so he left quickly and quietly, aware that the man's mentor would help him process things once he had arrived.

'_Abby was awake then'_ he thought, as he felt the floor vibrate slightly; his ears were assaulted with the loud music and indistinguishable lyrics as soon as he stepped off the elevator.

Abby gave a small, enthusiastic jump for joy when she saw the Caff-Pow placed down in front of her, and quickly turned giving her boss a quick hug round the mid-section whilst still sat at her computer.

Gibbs found he still did not have the heart to tell her about Tony; she would be pissed as hell when she found out he had kept this from her! He tried to convince himself that it was because he would need all his strength to deal with Tony; he didn't want to admit to the fact that he wasn't sure he could handle hearing any more recriminations, particularly from Abby. He kissed the top of her head and went back to autopsy to await Ducky.

* * *

"Oh dear!" Ducky said, sadly shaking his head. He had just finished listening to Jethro describe the events of the previous night, and while he was shocked that Anthony had handed in his resignation he felt as though he shouldn't be surprised. The urbane young man _had_ had a lot to handle over the past few years; everyone had a breaking point and it seemed as though they had finally discovered Tony's.

"No offence Duck, but I was kind of hoping for something a little more constructive than _'oh dear!'_ How do I stop this? How can I _fix_ this?" he asked with an unusual note of desperation and uncertainty in his voice.

Ducky sighed again, knowing that he had nothing to say that his old friend would want to hear. "Jethro, I don't know that there _is_ anything you can do. Young Anthony has had to face a great deal over the past few years and we did not support him as perhaps we should have done. I fear judging by his outburst last night we may be too late; we may not be able to stop him from leaving."

"Tony's leaving?" came Abby's tremulous voice from the doorway. "Tony _can't_ leave…Tony can't _ever_ leave. If Tony leaves who is gonna bring me my Caff-Pows when you don't and who is gonna go to the hinky side of town with me so I can go to my favourite club and who is going to vet my boyfriends and who is gonna…?"

"Abigail," interrupted Ducky gently, "please take a breath."

Abby took a long, unsteady breath in. "Why is Tony leaving?" she asked quietly, no trace of her normally vivacious personality shining through.

"It's a lot of things Abs, the mock break-in, Vance, the Frog, Jenny…there are a lot of reasons."

"Is he mad about my part too? Cos I'll make it up to him I swear. I'll…I'll buy him some more black roses…no…something even better, like…well I don't know yet but I'll find something so amazing he'll have to stay." She was rambling more nonsensically than usual and she was fully aware of it, but she couldn't help herself.

She hadn't immediately taken to Tony when he first arrived; she didn't believe he was worthy as Stan's replacement. He had a strange sense of humour and could be more than a little sexist at times; he had a quick wit which he used at the wrong time and he _never_ stopped referring to old movies.

Then she got to know him; his humour helped diffuse tense situations or redirected the wrath of Gibbs onto himself instead of some poor unsuspecting police officer or junior agent. The quick wit was a defence mechanism, used when Tony felt uncomfortable with a situation, or even a specific person. Tony could also be a real gentleman at times, with no sign of chauvinism.

Their friendship grew slowly but steadily; during this period Tony introduced her to a whole host of films, classic and modern, that he said it was positively criminal that she hadn't seen. There were a few she would gladly never watch again but others that she now owned copies of herself; it had been fun!

Tony was indeed a worthy replacement; in fact he was so much more than that; now that she risked losing him her mind was becoming as dark as the clothes she wore.

Gibbs saw the dejected look on Abby's face, saw the sadness in Ducky's eyes and knew that he could not fail in this task…he _had_ to keep Tony! "Don't worry Abs, I'm not gonna let him go. Just give me a little time before you race up there and try to duct-tape him to a chair." That said he left autopsy and headed to the bullpen to see if his troubled senior field agent had arrived yet.

* * *

Ziva walked into an almost silent bullpen; McGee was at his desk playing with his latest handheld gadget and Tony was hunched over a stack of paperwork that risked spilling onto the floor at any moment.

"Where is Gibbs?" she asked enquiringly to no-one in particular.

McGee spared her a brief glance from his palm-top and shrugged his shoulders. "Haven't seen him all morning, but his jacket is on the back of his chair so he's around here somewhere" he replied logically.

Tony had remained silent, had not even looked up from his paperwork. "Tony, do you know where Gibbs is?" Ziva asked, a little taken aback by his abnormally quiet demeanour.

Without looking up once Tony gave a quick, blunt _'no'_ and carried on with the miles of red-tape bullshit that sat taunting him on his desk.

Ziva looked over towards McGee, one eyebrow raised in question; McGee shrugged his shoulders once again, no clearer on Tony's behaviour than Gibbs' whereabouts. Ziva's eyebrows furrowed; something was very off with her partner. She nodded to Gibbs' desk, silently asking McGee if he thought the boss might have anything to do with their Senior Field Agent's odd mood. McGee was about to shrug his shoulders a third time when Tony interrupted them.

"If you two are going to continue this silent conversation of yours can you at least try and be a little more subtle; it's distracting and I've got a lot of paperwork to get through for The Toothpick." Once again, Tony's eyes never left the paper in front of him, but the tone of his voice said what his eyes did not; he was tired and sounded very irritable.

"You should _all_ be at your desks," Gibbs said from behind them with a pointed look at Ziva, who quickly walked behind her own desk and sat down. "Working," he added, with another pointed look at McGee, who hastily stuffed his latest technological toy into a desk drawer and turned towards his computer. "DiNozzo, we need to talk…my office?" he asked in a tone that said there was no other choice.

Tony sighed, more than 100% positive he would not like to be trapped in a tiny metal box suspended in air with his unnaturally talkative boss. "I've got a lot of work to do Gibbs," he stated honestly, looking up, exhaustion still haunting his countenance.

Gibbs came and stood in front of his desk, placed both hands palm down and looked Tony in the eyes. "Please Tony!" he asked quietly, a tinge of desperation to his voice that Tony had never heard before. Both Ziva and McGee were more shocked by that single word than by Tony's silence.

Tony took another sigh and stood up slowly, ignoring his aches from the previous day. He gave his boss a quick nod and was heading over towards the lift when a voice from above stopped him.

"Agent DiNozzo, I think we should talk, don't you?" Vance asked with a smug grin plastered across his face.

Tony tried to take a deep, steadying breath; he wasn't sure he could be in a small area with Vance either right now, not without jamming a few toothpicks down his throat.

"I need to talk to my agent first Leon," Gibbs told the Director firmly.

"No…I need to talk to _my_ agent first Gibbs, and then I need to talk to you about finding a replacement."

"A replacement? You are firing Tony?" Ziva looked up at the Director sharply. "Why? What do you think he has done wrong?" not entertaining the idea for one moment that Tony _had_ done anything wrong.

"He hasn't done anything wrong, but he _has_ handed in his resignation." There were audible gasps from around the bullpen, but the loudest ones of all came from Ziva and McGee who looked at Tony, incomprehension in their eyes. Vance ignored all of this and continued, "Of course, a letter would have been more suitable than an e-mail; I'll be expecting one on my desk by the end of the day. As for the rest of the details that will need to be sorted out, make an appointment with my secretary asap." With that, Vance turned and headed back into his office, that grin set firmly in place.

While Ziva and McGee were struggling to find the right words, Tony turned to Gibbs, eyes burning with anger. "You stole my resignation letter?" he loudly accused, not caring about the many ears openly listening in. "What the hell gave you the right?"

Gibbs cursed himself for not even thinking about the possibility of an e-mail, and knew that this was going to be another reason added to the long list of reasons as to why Tony wanted to leave NCIS; he had to do damage control, and quick. Pushing his Senior Field Agent into the lift, he deftly pulled the emergency stop and whirled Tony around to face him. "Tony, I didn't want you to make some rash decision made in a moment of anger that you would later regret. I wanted to talk to you and…" his explanation was cut short.

"_You_ wanted? It's not about what you want Gibbs. And what the _hell_ makes you think that this is a decision I made in anger?"

"_This!_…the fact that you shredded your hands last night on a punch-bag; the fact that you haven't talked to anyone else about this; the fact that you have yet to talk to me without shouting."

"Yeah…well…I have a lot to shout about, don't you think!" Tony sniped. He folded his arms and moved to the farthest corner of the elevator, having to lean against it to hold himself upright.

* * *

Ziva and McGee were staring at the closed doors of the lift; occasionally they could hear a murmur of raised voices, but they could not make out the words.

"What's going on in there?" Abby asked in monotone from behind.

McGee jumped and unusually, so did Ziva; as distracted as the Mossad Agent was she had not noticed Abby walking up to them.

McGee turned to the goth, wide-eyed; "Abby, I think maybe you should sit down…I need to tell you something." He had always envied the easy-going friendship that Tony and Abby shared but he would have to push that aside for now and help comfort Abby, for he knew she would be devastated.

"It's ok McGee," she gave him a small, sad smile; "Tony wants to leave…I know." She looked down at her feet and fiddled with a piece of paper in her hands. "Do you think Boss-man will be able to talk him out of it?" she asked uncertainly; her normally unbreakable faith in the team-leader had been badly shaken by Ducky's rueful words earlier that morning.

Ziva and McGee shared an uncertain look. They had both heard the small desperate plea from Gibbs to talk things over before Vance had shown up; that the man knew the word _'please'_ was enough of a shock. But seeing _and_ hearing Tony's anger before he was pulled into the elevator…no…they had never seen Tony that angry.

"I don't know Abby," McGee started uncertainly; "Tony seemed pretty mad!"

Ziva, like Gibbs, lacked tact; she completely ignored Abby's need for reassurance and got straight to the point. "I do not think Gibbs will be the problem. Vance will not miss this opportunity to get rid of Tony. The Director does not much like him."

Abby's shoulders sank and she seemed to curl in on herself as she stood there, all sign of hope gone. "I know that," she stated quietly; "I think I might need a _'Plan B.'_"

"'_Plan B?'_" McGee asked curiously.

"There was a _'Plan A?'_" Ziva asked, straight to the point once more.

"'_Plan A' _was Gibbs talking some sense into him. _'Plan B'_ is a little less risky and a lot more fun."

"Sounds like that should have been _'Plan A'_ then," the Mossad Officer huffed; once again her tone of voice lacked any and all sign of tact. "So what does this plan involve?"

"Well," she started with a grin, "McGee, you will need to hack into his system and wipe all trace of Tony's proposed resignation. Ziva, you need to break into his office, without leaving _any_ trace evidence, and steal his stash of toothpicks…then you need to bring them to me."

"This is the _less_ risky option?" McGee asked disbelievingly.

"Duh!" Abby said as though it ought to have been obvious. "Have you ever seen Gibbs trying to be warm and fuzzy? _Without_ scaring Tony?"

"_Toothpicks?_" Ziva asked incredulously. "Tony wants to leave and _you_ want to play games with _toothpicks_?"

Abby gave Ziva a quick slap up the back of the head; "Silly Ziva! Vance likes his toothpicks, yes? So say that some of them were to accidentally find themselves laced with Ricin…or if some were unintentionally tainted with the Botulinum Toxin…well…that would just be too bad. NCIS would need seasoned agents to get through the hard times and so Tony would _have_ to stay!" Abby explained. "Of course if one of those falls through we may have to come up with something a little more creative!"

Ziva and McGee took turns in gaping like a fish at her; another muffled shout from behind the closed elevator doors stopped them. A quick glance at each other, and they shrugged their shoulders; they knew Abby was just being Abby, who babbled away when things got to her. They both knew that she would never _actually_ poison Vance, so they decided to play along with the charade.

"With Vance out of the way, I think Tony would be more inclined to stay." Ziva stated seriously.

McGee nodded hesitantly, agreeing with Ziva's assessment but hoping her unfazed demeanour at even the thought of killing Vance was another of her secret-agent skills; "That could work!" he played along.

"Of course it will work, I'm a forensic genius!" Abby reminded them. Ziva and McGee looked at each other, eyebrows raised; neither one of them could believe they were even pretending to go along with Abby's _'master-plan.'_

* * *

Back in the lift, Tony's anger had given way to his exhaustion and his despondency. He turned his tired eyes to Gibbs, who almost flinched at the maelstrom of emotions he saw in his agent.

"That letter," Tony said quietly before correcting himself, "_Those_ letters you think I wrote in anger…they have been sitting in my desk for over two years." Gibbs reeled back from the admission as though he'd been physically struck. "I didn't write them in anger Boss; if you're going to trust me on anything trust me on this…I thought about it a whole hell of a lot before I even thought about writing anything down, and the only thing that's changed since then and now is a name on an envelope."

He hit the emergency stop button, starting up the elevator once more; he walked out, ignoring Gibbs, ignoring the team and ignoring Abby. He walked to his desk grabbed his jacket and headed for the stairs. "I'm off for some coffee or something…I'll be back later." With that, he was gone, leaving a very subdued bullpen behind him.

* * *

_**Hope you liked it; let me know what you think!**_

_**Botulinum Toxin is a very deadly protein, (used to make Botox) apparently one teaspoon could kill 1.2 billion people…so pretty toxic stuff! But Abby is just being Abby and joking around.**_

_**Next up, the countdown continues. What will the team say to Tony when they each confront him? Will Tony be at all receptive to their questions?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks once again to both the supportive and constructive feedback.**_

_**Abby and McGee get to talk to Tony. Can they discover his reasons for leaving and can they change his mind?**_

* * *

Tony's coffee run lasted over three hours. He left NCIS and headed straight for the Potomac; he needed some time and space to absorb all that had happened and to prepare for what was to come. He found it morbidly ironic that he was standing on a bridge trying to sort things in his life out while others came to this very same bridge to _end_ their own.

While staring out across the river he thought about the people he left behind in that office. He managed to surprise Gibbs; during all eight years of working alongside the man, he had never managed to sneak up on him, render him speechless, or tell him something he _didn't_ already know. He had always imagined that when he finally managed to pull one over on Gibbs he would feel pretty happy with himself, safe in the knowledge that he would be giving the senior agent a dose of his own omnipresent medicine. However, Tony could find no joy in this situation.

On exiting the elevator and leaving behind a shocked Gibbs he came face to face with the shock plainly written across both Ziva and McGee's faces; he knew that they would never have suspected that he had the balls to stand up for himself. They saw a frat-boy clown of an agent follow their fearless leader around like a loyal dog; but even the most loyal of dogs could turn on their masters when pushed too hard into a corner.

He isn't sure that they'll ever understand what pushed him over the edge; he is fully aware of how hard it is to accept responsibility for something, no matter how small your role. They will never accept that they had ever done anything to help create this mess, throwing all of his actions back at him as though they necessitated some form of retribution.

He liked working with them…enjoyed teaching the Probie and purposefully trying to rile up the overly-serious Mossad Officer; he would miss them when he was gone. Yet despite all this, despite each and every reason he had for enjoying working alongside them, he was too well aware that a lack of trust in a team can prove to be fatal; knowing his luck, _he'd_be the fatality!

The face that had hurt him so much so that his chest had physically ached when he saw her was Abby's. She was his oldest and most loyal friend at NCIS; she knew things about him he would never have dreamed about telling anyone. But Abby had a special ability when it came to opening him up; she could crack him open like a fortune cookie and read him like a book. She didn't know everything about him, but she knew more than the rest.

Abby never treated him any differently because he came from money, or because he did sports at university instead of an academic subject. She never treated him like he was stupid but always managed to tell him if he was being particularly idiotic. She didn't belittle him for his serious deficiencies in technological understanding. She was always the first to worry about him.

Despite all this, the two had drifted. Part of it was because of the whole Mexico disaster; he was upset that she had completely forgiven Gibbs and seemingly forgotten all the reasons they had to be mad at the man. He was also disappointed that she didn't seem to realise how much seeing Gibbs' face plastered all over every single monitor everyday had hurt. Her own pain at the boss' running away and her hope that he would return had seriously impaired her ability to read him, blinded by her own emotions.

Another obstacle was when he was sent off to be Agent Afloat…twice! He had sent her postcards whenever they docked, but it wasn't the same…it wasn't enough; they couldn't have a good long talk, a heavy night's clubbing to work out the stress, or even sit down together and watch a movie, ignoring their problems for a while. Instead she was in her lab with everyone but Ziva and himself still in her world, and he had been stuck in his tiny cabin, surrounded by 5,000 strangers yet never having felt more alone.

He knew it would be hard to explain his reasons for leaving to her; knew that she will never see Gibbs' flaws like he now does. He can't truly blame her for that; there was a time when he too thought their boss was faultless. However, he owed her of all people an explanation; Abby, Ducky and Palmer had no real effect on his decision to leave, they were just no longer enough to make him stay.

* * *

Gibbs had shrugged off all questions from the others and sent them back to work at their desks and Abby in her lab. His mind was still reeling from the revelation that Tony's resignation had been written two years ago; how could he not have known that something so serious had been brewing in Tony for so long?

For over three hours the agents worked their cold cases in silence, trying to find any new leads while ignoring the slow splintering of their team.

Abby stepped off the elevator just as Tony stepped out of the stairwell. They shared a small sad smile, both sets of eyes promising a talk in the very near future. Upon seeing their Senior Field Agent, both McGee and Ziva stood up and headed over, questions tumbling out of their mouths before they had even processed what they were asking.

Gibbs was well aware of Tony's need for physical and emotional space when the situation was well past uncomfortable, so he stepped in to break up the incomprehensible interrogation Tony was facing from his team-mates.

"Abby, you got something?" Ziva looked annoyed at his interruption, McGee confused, but the look of gratitude in Tony's eyes cancelled out these other emotions. He gave a small nod of acknowledgment and understanding that he knew his agent would comprehend, then he turned back to Abby while keeping a surreptitious watch over his Senior Field Agent.

"Always one step ahead my super-sharp Boss-Man! I found a few partials on the murder weapon for the Martinez case and managed to make a whole fingerprint" she ended with a self-satisfied little smile.

"How could someone have missed these the first time?" Ziva questioned disbelievingly.

Tony answered "Because they weren't Abby;" he gave her the best smile he could muster and was happy to see her blush a little. He was well aware that Abby knew just how good she was at her job and knew that it was an understated compliment; it was a small olive branch and a step in the right direction, and he was glad to see her positive response. He knew who would be showing up at his door tonight.

"They processed the knife blade and the handle, but they had all been wiped clean; however, someone had obviously taken the blade out to clean it properly, only they forgot to wipe down the root, the part that fits into the handle, before they put the knife back together…that's where I found enough partials to process. The hilt covered the root of the blade and stopped the fingerprints from being tainted…it preserved them!" She wheeled round to face Ziva, and asked with some skilfully feigned distress "Did you think I _wouldn't_ be able to find something?"

"No, of course not," Ziva quickly revised and tried to recover with a smile and a heartfelt "You always do!"

Abby nodded her head, satisfied, handed her printout to Gibbs, gave him a quick salute and headed back to the lift; however, she could hold back her emotions no longer and she threw herself at Tony and gave him a big hug. At first he tensed up but he quickly relaxed into it and even returned it, granted it was without his usual gusto but it was still something. She whispered into his ear out of view of the others, "I'll be at your apartment at 8 o'clock sharp; you _better_ answer the door buster! I'll bring the drink; you choose the movie and get the snacks."

Tony knew he was being ordered, not asked. He pulled back from the hug and gave her a small smile, "You got it."

Gibbs let them have his moment, glad to see the smile that briefly graced DiNozzo's features, no matter how diminished it seemed compared to his normal Cheshire Cat grin. Then he was back to business; "DiNozzo, go check out this…" he held the piece of paper at arm's length, "…this Petty Officer Samuel Crewe; bring him in for questioning…and take McGee with you. Ziva, look into the original case-file and cross-check anything that links him to our vic. and check his personnel file too. We're gonna need a motive and probable-cause; all we got so far is a chop-shopped print. I want this case airtight."

Ziva looked ready to protest at the pairing, wanting some one-on-one time with Tony to talk, but a quick look at Gibbs told her she'd have to wait for her moment. She went back to her desk and started on her own tasks.

* * *

McGee had been surprised when DiNozzo had handed him the keys…he _never_ got to drive, he was always driven by the speed demons that NCIS seemed eager to employ. For once, Tony was quiet as McGee kept to just above the speed limit…no teasing, no banter, nothing.

McGee racked his brain, trying to find a way to bring up Tony's resignation without appearing too blunt or too nosy. He couldn't think of anything…maybe if he started off slow; he tried to find a neutral subject to talk about. It felt odd being the one looking for a conversation with DiNozzo; normally the senior field agent was pretty verbose and the conversation was already flowing before he was fully aware of its subject, even if it was normally full of snippy remarks and sarcastic comebacks.

He didn't know anything about sports and he wasn't interested; Tony didn't know anything about the latest technologies and _he_ wasn't interested. He didn't know if Tony had had any serious relationships since Jeanne and thought it a wise topic to steer clear of. McGee had never wanted to discuss his relationships with Tony and would not start now, even as desperate as he was for conversation. He thought he should probably steer clear from work too; it was too close to the real issue. He swallowed his pride and blurted out "The weather's nice isn't it." He mentally gave himself a head-slap.

Tony smiled, easily picking up on McGee's unease; he felt no need to tease him about it but he felt no need to make things easier either. "Yes it is." He knew that a near monosyllabic DiNozzo tended to freak people out, and he didn't feel like playing fair right now.

McGee replayed Tony's words over in his head trying to find another direction the conversation could go in, but DiNozzo hadn't given him a whole hell of a lot to work with. He sighed and quickly steered the car into a random spot by the side of the road, he took a deep breath and turned to face a bemused Tony, ready to grab the bull by the horns.

"Why are we stopping here McGee? There's a bit to go before we reach Norfolk."

"Why are you leaving? You love NCIS. You love Gibbs. You've always loved this job and now you just decide to quit?" McGee gave a small sigh and looked down at his hands which were fiercely gripping the steering wheel. He added quietly "I just don't understand."

It was Tony's turn for a sigh. "Why wouldn't I leave?" McGee looked up at this, confusion plainly written across his face. "I don't love NCIS anymore…too much has happened!"

"Like what?" McGee demanded; his frustration at not being able to understand Tony's reasoning was beginning to seep into his voice.

A quick snort escaped from Tony; "How can you honestly be asking me that? Too much has happened for you not to have noticed any of it; Gibbs running away to Mexico for one" he pointed out, counting off a finger as he went.

"But he came back!" McGee pointed out, and then a look of comprehension crossed his face; "Is it because you were demoted?"

He was shocked by the withering glare DiNozzo gave him. "No McGee, it is not because I was demoted. It was the _way_ he came back not the fact that he _did_ come back!" He didn't want to go any further into this conversation with McGee, aware that the junior agent had felt nothing but unmitigated glee when Gibbs returned to pick up the reins and had thrown Tony aside.

He counted off another finger; "There was the Grenouille op." He couldn't bring himself to bringing Jeanne into this conversation either. McGee had never done proper undercover work and so did not understand that Tony had spent the four months in Gibbs absence running a team and running an undercover operation; he was working 24/7. When Gibbs came back, he was still working 24/7 for several months, only he was back to being Senior Field Agent. McGee was also one of the few who never saw how much the mess with Jeanne had cost him…how deep he fell, how he _wanted_ to be Professor DiNardo and _not_ Agent DiNozzo, how much the whole fiasco had completely fucked with his head. No…McGee didn't deserve to hear about any of that.

He counted off another finger; "That whole mess in LA; I failed to do my duty as an agent because I didn't trust my Director enough _not_ to drag me into more of her personal bullshit. And she died because of that McGee!" He shook his head, not ready to delve further into that subject with him either. He added another finger to the mix. "I spent six months afloat, on two different massive ships, by myself. I was despised by pretty much everyone; I mean it would be like having an Internal Affairs agent sat in the bullpen watching over our every move;" he tried to explain why his position was so detested on board.

He'd given up on the fingers when he finished with "Then this stupid fucking war-game bullshit! Gibbs didn't trust us, McGee, and I ended up with another concussion because of it. I am tired of being someone's puppet…so I decided to cut the damn strings."

McGee was silent, trying to process it all; he couldn't ever recall hearing Tony shout so much, ever having so much to say that was completely 100% serious…no sarcasm, no wisecracks…nothing! After a few moments of thinking quietly to himself McGee believed Tony had made a very big oversight, and was angry at him for it; "What about the team?" he demanded.

Tony sneered at him, "What team McGee? Gibbs doesn't trust us, and I don't think I trust him too much anymore. Ziva doesn't trust _me_…that's why she called _Gibbs_ when she was in trouble. And you…"

"What _about_ me?" McGee asked defensively.

"Let's face it McGee…there isn't a day that goes by without you wondering how the hell _I'm_ Senior Field Agent. I don't blame you, sometimes I wonder too. But lately, certainly since I've been back from sea and maybe even a little before then, you've found any and every reason to snipe at me…"

"You do the same to me…you're _always_ teasing me…about _everything_!" McGee forcefully pointed out.

"Yes!" exclaimed Tony; "Exactly…I _'tease'_ you about it. I've spent several years training you up McGee…Gibbs isn't the only one who's ever taught you anything…not that you'd ever acknowledge that _I've_ helped you."

McGee was momentarily confused. "How the hell have you helped me? You've done nothing but haze me since I started…giving me all the crappy jobs, _always_ calling me _'Probie,'_ you put super-glue on my computer for Christ's sake!"

"First of all, we've all had our fair share of dumpster-diving; I did plenty of that when I was back on the force and Gibbs will have done plenty when he started with Franks…it's what happens and it's why people look forward to having their own junior officers. In case you've forgotten McGee, you did your own fair share of passing these jobs onto Lee when she was _your_ Probie…and you did so with great glee!

"Second of all, 'Probie' is a name in the same way that 'Boss' is…there's nothing malicious in it, it's just your position on the team…"

"But I'm not a Probie anymore!" McGee interrupted with an exasperated cry.

"No, you're a seasoned NCIS Agent…but you will _always_ be the Probie…Gibbs will _always_ be Franks' Probie!"

"You never get called Probie!" McGee pouted.

"No…cos I had _six_ years as a detective under my belt, working homicide and vice and even traffic. I worked through the academy and had plenty of investigative experience by the time I started here…the only difference is that people actually understood me when I shouted _'Freeze, BPD!'_ "

"…and the super-glue?"

DiNozzo gave a somewhat sheepish smile, "…erm…character building?" he tried. McGee did not look impressed with that answer. "Ok…so you got me there. But I _have_ helped you become the agent you are today. I mean let's face it, you were a nervous wreck when you first started working with us; you didn't stand you're ground with the local LEO's and you were always anxious around the Marines. I'll admit my methods are rather unorthodox, but the teasing, the pranks…you learnt to stand up to me because of them, and then…once you'd gained enough confidence, you started to use that newfound confidence at the crime scenes."

McGee looked slightly dubious at this explanation, but he left it as it was. He hadn't meant to make things _more_ angry and tense; he certainly never meant to shout. The banter had been present on the team when he first started; in fact…he'd never heard anyone bicker as much as Tony and Kate seemed to. Words seemed to brush off Tony like water off a duck's back; he just didn't understand why Tony should be sensitive to these things _no_w! His quiet musings were interrupted by Tony's soft voice.

"We should get to Norfolk; Gibbs will be pissed if we take much longer." As soon as the words left his mouth, Tony's phone began to ring. "Hey Boss!" he forced out cheerfully, trying to ignore the ache that had built up in his chest during his little _'chat'_ with McGee. "No, we're not there yet…erm…you know…traffic." He caught McGee's look of gratitude but did not respond to it; McGee was going to have to learn how to deal with the full force of Gibbs' moods once Tony was no longer there to act as buffer…this little white lie to Gibbs would be one last little favour.

* * *

By the time they returned with Petty Officer Crewe in their custody the darkness of night had settled. Gibbs had told them that he would handle the interrogation and that they could both head home. He pulled his Senior Field Agent aside and said quietly "I know you have plans with Abby tonight and that you've probably had enough of me today…but this conversation is not going away Tony! I'm not gonna let you go without a fight."

Tony gave him a nod of thanks and went to get his things; he didn't have long before Abby would be over. On his way to the desk he saw McGee and Ziva quietly talking amongst themselves; despite his excellent hearing he didn't hear any of their conversation…damn Ziva and her spidy-senses! With a quick, murmured warning to McGee they both fell silent and watched Tony's progress across the room; for a Special Agent and a Secret Agent they really could do with learning the art of subtlety.

Ziva came over to meet him and he could tell she was nervous. "Tony, I was thinking we could get some drinks. Would you like to?" she asked hopefully. She was desperate for a chance to talk to her partner, find out why he wanted to leave. McGee told her that Tony had listed Jenny and the Grenouille op. as reasons, but she was certain there were more.

Tony gave her a small smile, knowing exactly why she wanted to go and get drinks together all of a sudden. "I'm sorry Ziva, Abby's coming over tonight. I think she wants to talk."

"I couldn't possibly imagine what that might be about" McGee murmured sarcastically.

Tony ignored him and looked at Ziva's crestfallen face; "How about tomorrow night after work?" he asked, trying to ease his guilt.

Ziva perked up, knowing her partner had just quietly agreed that they would be talking about this in the near future and that he wasn't just blowing her off. She nodded her thanks and went to gather her own things, a little more bounce in her step than when she had first walked over to greet him.

* * *

Abby was already sitting down on his sofa when he got there; he checked his watch…she was early.

Abby caught this action and smiled sheepishly; "I guess I might have been a little eager to get here," she admitted. She looked down at her hands which she was gently wringing together in her lap. "You seem pretty set on leaving…is there any way we can change your mind?" she asked quietly, afraid of the answer she might hear.

"I'm not sure you can Abby," Tony admitted quietly, knowing his honest answer would hurt her, but also aware that if nothing else, she deserved the truth.

"Was it something _I_ did?" she asked worriedly.

Tony took a deep breath; he didn't want to hurt her but he didn't want to lie either. "I'm not gonna deny that there have been times when you've hurt me, but I also know that you'd _never_ intentionally hurt me, and you are certainly not _why_ I am leaving."

Abby was understandably upset to learn that she had hurt her friend, and wanted to make sure it would never happen again; "What did I do?" she asked without any accusation in her voice, only the need to understand.

"There were times when it felt like you had forgotten about me, when Gibbs came back for example. We had so many reasons to be pissed at him, and you ignored them all, happy he was back and completely oblivious to how it was affecting me or Ducky. It meant I couldn't talk to you about it and that hurt!"

"I'm sorry Tony…I wish I'd known; if I could take it back I would, I cross my heart and hope to die…I swear on Bert's life…I…"

"Abby," Tony interrupted with a smile, "I know…I've already forgiven you! It's been too long since we last had a movie night, but we're here now, and we're talking…that's a hell of a lot more than I was hoping for."

"I just wish it hadn't taken you handing in your resignation for it to happen!" Abby lamented. Silence reigned for several minutes, both minds processing recent events and contemplating the future. "You know," Abby spoke up, ending the silence, "If it's Vance that's the problem I've already decided that I'm going to lace his toothpicks with deadly toxins; Ziva and McGee even agreed to help!"

Tony gave a short loud laugh, not at all surprised that Abby had threatened to put her forensic skills to work, even if she wasn't being serious. "Abby, I love you, I really do!" then his expression grew serious; "But even with Vance out of the picture, I still couldn't stay."

Abby looked crestfallen at this revelation. "Is it because Gibbs didn't tell you about his trap for Lee?" She knew that Tony looked up to Gibbs, that he was continually seeking the man's approval; to not have been trusted with this would have been inconsequential to some, annoying to others…for Tony she could understand that it would have caused nothing but pain and anger.

"Partly," Tony admitted. "But there's other stuff too. He didn't trust me with this; he didn't trust me to watch his six during that mess with Maddie Tyler…hell, he never even thanked me for saving his damn life, Abby. I did my job, so I don't expect any thanks for _that_, but for the rest of it…I might not have thought much about it at the time…because of the urgency of the situation and the adrenaline and everything…but diving into that water could have been _fatal_ for me! My lungs are permanently scarred; if I had swallowed any of that dirty water…and he never recognised that fact." Tony ended quietly, once again disappointed at his boss' lack of concern for his welfare and his failure to acknowledge Tony's life-saving actions.

"I'm sure he's grateful Tony, maybe he just forgot." Abby tried to placate him. It didn't work though; Tony was violently shaking his head from side to side, disagreeing with her.

"It doesn't matter anyway Abs, whether he is grateful or not; he doesn't trust me, and I feel I can no longer trust him. A team can't function like that, someone will wind up taking a bullet and judging by past events it will be me. I used to accept the fact that I might die doing this job, but the thought of getting shot because I hesitate to think about whether or not I'm being used as some puppet yet again…that doesn't sit right with me."

Abby once again started playing with her hands, knowing then that there was nothing _she_ could do to change his mind. If anyone could it would be Gibbs, and she was beginning to doubt even _he_ could fix this. "Well, we had you for eight years…that's six years longer than anyone else right?"

Tony gave her a small, grateful smile, glad she was not going to continue to push this particular conversation. "Exactly, and you survived the experience!" he added with a wolfish smile.

One corner of Abby's mouth curled upwards but her eyes held a hint of melancholy, "It was a great ride. You'll stay in touch right?"

"Always…not like I could ever forget you Abs!" he smiled at her fondly.

"Good…now let's watch the movie. What did you choose?" she crawled over him on the couch to look at the DVD he had picked out. "'Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.' Robert Downy Jr…any good?"

"It's a comedy…thought we might need some after all the heavy duty talking" he gave her a fleeting sheepish grin which Abby returned. They got some snacks set out on the coffee table in front of them, opened a bottle of wine and called for a pizza.

Once the DVD was in they nestled together underneath a blanket, drawing strength from each other's warm embrace. Tony gave her a surreptitious glance; she was seemingly absorbed in the movie. He would miss this easy friendship when he was gone. His silent musings were interrupted by Abby, who had not diverted her attention from the screen.

"Just so you know, Gibbs will fight for you right to the end, and he won't kill Vance cleverly and quietly like I would…he'll just shoot him. He's really bad with words and emotions and stuff but you're going to have a whole hell of a lot of touchy-feely conversations with him in the near future. Now stop looking at me and watch the movie!"

Tony smirked at her authoritative Gibbs-like tone, but turned back to the screen. He knew she was right; he still had to face Gibbs and Ziva. He would have to talk to Ducky and Palmer too but he believed that they would be more like Abby than the team, understanding and supportive. There was still that meeting with Vance to organise too, but he didn't mind making the Director wait…in fact, if he was honest with himself he drew some sadistic pleasure out of it. The next few days were going to be difficult, but now he had his friend at his side things seemed a little more bearable.

* * *

_**There you go, not much of a cliff-hanger, but thought it was a nice place to end it for now. Let me know what you think! Hope I haven't got anyone too ooc.**_

_**Next up, the countdown continues. Tony talks to Ducky and Palmer and tries to prepare himself for his talk with Ziva.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks to all who reviewed and alerted and what not. Sorry if I replied to anyone twice - I've had one hell of a week and honestly can't remember who I've replied to, if at all…sorry!**_

_**Some people are confused by the whole **__**'let's poison Vance'**__** thing…it is just a **__**joke**__**, it will not actually happen – it is simply one of Abby's **__**'I could kill you and no-one would know it was me'**__** things…which she does quite a lot!**_

_**While I freely admit that my syntax is far from perfect, I would like to point out that words like **__**'leant'**__** and **__**'learnt'**__** are perfectly acceptable past participles. Thank you to **__**Bella **__**for supporting me on that!**_

_**Bella,**__** (couldn't reply to you) in my other story **__**'Quiet Anger'**__** Tony was mad that Gibbs just left with a split-second decision and no explanations. It **__**will**__** be addressed later in this story, but this is just in case it is really bothering you as to why Tony didn't just leave asap.**_

_**Phew…too many notes…on with the story!**_

_**Tony talks to Ducky, and then to Palmer. Is he ready to face Ziva? And what happens when work gets in the way?**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**THIRTEEN DAYS TO GO**_

Tony walked into autopsy and found Ducky leant over a body, he was carefully removing the liver while telling the dead marine about some decidedly un-PG escapade of his university life. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face; he would desperately miss hearing Ducky's monologues going on in the background at various crime scenes, in the office, or even interrupting Gibbs from time to time.

He let himself blend into the background as he leant against the wall and waited and watched and listened as Ducky carried on with his work, oblivious to all else that was going on around him. The _'whoosh'_ of the doors made him look up and he met the question in Jimmy's eyes with a small smile and a shake of his head; _'don't ask!'_ he thought. Jimmy must have understood and said nothing, but the noise of his entrance had finally disturbed Ducky from his latest tale of a _'femme fatale'_ he had met during his residency in London.

"Ah, good morning Mr. Palmer; I am almost finished with PFC Taylor here, but there was a new arrival not even an hour ago. If you'd like to start the preliminary examination I do believe young Anthony and I need a long talk and a good cup of tea."

Jimmy looked as though he were about to argue…he too wanted to talk with his friend…but a quick look from his mentor assured him that while his time would come it was most certainly not now. "Of course Dr. Mallard" he sighed and headed over to check the log and find the body he was to work on.

Ducky led Tony into his very small office at the back of autopsy, and offered him one of two chairs to sit on. The office was tiny; a small desk, two chairs, a filling cabinet, a waste paper basket and very little floor space. While Tony got himself seated and tried to mentally prepare himself for the doctor's overly keen eye and equally blunt observations, Ducky went back out into autopsy quickly brewing two cups of tea and gathering together some chocolate biscuits.

"Now young Anthony," Ducky said as he pushed a warm mug into Tony's hands and seated himself opposite the tired agent; "Do you want to tell me what has finally pushed you over the edge?"

Tony gave a quick smile of acknowledgment; Ducky never missed a beat! Then he started to think about his answer and his smile disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared. He took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words in his mind and put them together in a way that wouldn't upset the older man. Tony liked Ducky a lot, the man was like his crazy uncle or something; he always had an odd story to tell at the most random moments with absolutely no relevance, yet he also always had a patient ear and a wise word whenever Tony needed them.

"I guess I just don't know who to trust anymore," he said sadly, shaking his head as if the motion could dislodge the thoughts bouncing around his head. He looked up though his dark lashes and caught a flicker of hurt on the mortician's face; he knew what the older man was thinking and sought to correct it as quickly as he could. "Not with you Ducky, I've never had _any_ issues with trusting you. After all, you know my medical file…that means you already know more about me than most."

Ducky nodded, knowing that while there were things in Tony's medical record that Gibbs suspected, he, _Ducky_, knew for certain. He knew for instance that money could hide the sin but couldn't heal the scars. He knew that policemen were not always 100% loyal to other policemen, and that while the physical scars may have faded, the psychological ones still remained. His musings were interrupted by Tony's quiet and miserable voice.

"He didn't trust me Ducky, _again!_ I've worked with him for _eight_ years…we've been through a lot together; seen friends die, seen avoidable tragedies, hell we've even faced betrayal before…but clearly he didn't…_doesn't_…trust me. He lied to me, _used_ me in this little game of whack-a-mole of his and he can't even acknowledge that what he did was wrong."

"Oh Anthony…!"

"I'm tired of being manipulated Ducky, I'm not some goddamn puppet to be used how and when the higher-ups feel like it. I've already been to hell and back because of one superior's manipulation…I will not go there again!" He looked down into his barely touched tea and added quietly, "I'm not sure I can survive it a second time."

Ducky studied Tony's face seeing not only the tiredness from his late night with Abby, but the bone-deep exhaustion that haunted his deep green eyes, saw the defeat in his countenance and knew that Tony was right…he _wouldn't_ survive another incident like the disastrous Grenouille operation.

Tony gave him a small tentative smile, "You gonna try and talk me out of this too, tell me it's all in my head and that I have no reason to be pissed off?"

Ducky shook his head sadly, "No Anthony; my boy, I think you are fully justified in _all_ of your emotions. I just wish I had noticed all of this a little earlier, maybe I could have done something to help."

"Duck, nothing you could have said would ever erase the pain caused by the actions of others; eased it maybe…but that's like sticking a plaster over a bullet wound and expecting it to heal properly. When I was working PD the problem was that they all thought I was some rich spoilt brat playing at being a cop, and they didn't trust me because of that; it's part of the reason I moved around so much…being in a team where there isn't any trust on one side can have fatal results. I don't even want to imagine the possibilities where the trust has been compromised on both sides."

Tony paused and looked up, waiting until he had the mortician's complete attention; "I don't want to end up on your table because I spent my time second-guessing everyone's motives instead of focusing on the guy with the gun."

Ducky recoiled slightly at this; Tony was rarely this blunt on personal matters and the serious nature of his comment tore at Ducky's heart. Had the team dynamic been so dramatically damaged that Tony thought he would lose his life? Had his previous unshakable faith in the team been so critically destroyed?

"I would hate to see you there too, my boy!" Ducky stated plainly, the anguish in his voice immeasurable. "However, if you feel this way, if you truly believe that staying here will destroy you or get you killed then I must push aside all selfish reasons for telling you to stay, and tell you that maybe a fresh start would serve you well." Ducky almost couldn't believe these words were coming out of his mouth; he wanted Tony to stay…the young man was an excellent agent and a very good friend.

He sighed to himself, it was for that reason that he knew Tony should leave. Anthony had always been a good friend to Ducky, listening to his stories, helping out with his mother, lending a quiet and non-judgemental ear when he complained about Jethro's quick and unannounced departure…he owed it to the young man to be the friend he needed…the friend Ducky knew he should have been through all those dark times Anthony had faced alone.

"As long as you _promise_ to keep in touch and that you _will_ come and visit, I will try not to beleaguer you with any attempts to keep you where you are unhappy. Just know this young man…working with you has been both a joy and a privilege. I have seen you grow into a most dedicated and highly capable agent; I'm proud of you Anthony…you are a man I am lucky enough to call _'friend.'_"

Tony could feel his eyes watering; he would _not_ cry…_DiNozzo's_ did not cry! "Thank you Ducky, that…that means a lot coming from you. I've loved working with you too; you've taught me a lot and always had far more patience with me than anyone else I know" he laughed.

Ducky returned the laugh, "I suppose we are both known for being rather verbose!"

"I'll miss you Ducky, but I swear to God I _will_ stay in touch! Despite how much your friendship means to me…and it does mean a lot…I just don't think I can stay with NCIS anymore."

"Where will you go?" Ducky asked quietly, hoping that the young man would stay on the East Coast.

"I don't know yet," he then turned to face Ducky, a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his eyes, "Maybe I should take Fornell up on his job-offer; I'm sure Gibbs would love that."

Ducky shared a conspiratorial look with the Senior Field Agent, "Now that, young man, is a conversation I would gladly pay to see play out."

The chatter turned to more relaxed topics, such as the film Tony and Abby watched the night before, and Ducky's latest findings on a body for another of the Major Crimes Response Teams. With plenty of promises for some quality time together before Tony's two weeks notice was up and several more promises on staying in contact, Tony exited the small office leaving the mortician to his thoughts.

He saw Jimmy hunched over a body much like his mentor was earlier, only without a running monologue over the gruesome task. "Hey _'Love Machine,'_ you want to catch lunch together?"

Jimmy spun round and smiled at the Senior Field Agent, momentarily forgetting that he was up to his elbows in intestinal fluids, dripping some on the floor. "Sure _'Bandit,'_" Jimmy snickered at their codenames, one of the few amusing things that happened during the chaos with Lee; "I'll meet you in the office at 1300?"

Tony nodded "I'll see you then. Oh…and Jimmy…you're leaking that guy's last supper on the floor." He waited for the mess to register with Jimmy, silently laughed at the expression on the assistant's face and quickly left before the smell of stale stomach acid burnt the hairs in the back of his nose any further.

_**

* * *

**_

The morning was spent, as yesterday was, doing paperwork and going through cold-cases with a fine-toothcomb looking for anything that may have been overlooked.

Jimmy was at Tony's desk almost ten minutes early, eager for his chance to talk with the Senior Field Agent and try to find out if he was really going to leave them. "Ready Tony?" he asked as he was rolling from his heel to the ball of his feet and back again.

Tony smiled at Palmer's jittery antics and nodded. He gave Gibbs a quick, enquiring look; his boss gave him one of those deep penetrating looks he usually reserved for the interrogation room…which made him feel slightly uncomfortable…however, the senior agent had obviously found whatever it was he was looking for and gave Tony a brief nod.

"You've got an hour DiNozzo!"

_**

* * *

**_

They went to a small Italian family-run bistro a couple of blocks over; it was a warm and friendly place with an easy-going atmosphere. There was a gentle hum of music in the background and laughter coming from the kitchen. This was a place of comfort for Tony; whenever things got too much during the whole Grenouille mess and then the stresses that followed he would come here for lunch and let the atmosphere and Mama Sorrentino's (the owner) motherly affection wash over him. This was the first place he visited (besides NCIS) when he came back from being afloat. It was another thing to add to the list…the ever-growing list of things he would miss when he moved on.

"Hi Mama Sorrentino" Jimmy greeted loudly. He had been here with Tony a couple of times and found the people very warm and welcoming.

Mama Sorrentino, the bistro's owner, was of Sicilian origin, which was unmistakable to those who saw her olive skin, her dark hair and even darker eyes; her accent held a soft lilt to it and her continual references to _'the old country'_ also helped to reiterate her origins. Despite being in her late-fifties her hair was still naturally very dark. She was a small woman with an unassuming air about her; however, Tony knew from personal experience that no-one should ever mess with her when she got her mind set on something (namely fattening Tony up) or decided that you were not worth her time.

Tony called her _'Madrina'_ or _'The Godmother'_ likening her to a female Don Corleone; tough and scary as hell when she wanted to be, but soft as a feather to those she cared about. She just laughed when he explained all this to her, gave him a soft kiss on the top of his head while muttering away in soft Italian and then served him up more food.

"Jimmy, Antonio" she called with delight, the second name rolling off her tongue with far more fluidity. "Over here, per favore, sit, sit," she gestured wildly to a small table in an alcove by a window, private but comfortable.

Tony smiled gratefully, "Grazie!"

"Prego" she threw her hands up in the air indicating it was nothing and then she headed off to the kitchen.

"So Jimmy, head to it!"

Jimmy smiled, well aware that his eager desire to talk to Tony had not gone unnoticed by the sometimes annoyingly observant Senior Field Agent. He then thought about why they were in this situation and he lost his smile. He looked into Tony's face, deep into his eyes and searched for the resolve to leave he dreaded to see there…he was relieved when he could not see it, but knew Tony was more than capable of hiding his emotions…it was why the man was so useful for undercover work.

He was about to start talking when Mama Sorrentino made a reappearance, this time with a couple of drinks in her hands. "Still on-duty, si?" She received two nods in the affirmative and placed them down in front of them. "Is juice, bene?" She again received two grateful nods. Sensing the slight tension in the air she stood back and informed them that she had ordered two specials for them. "If you need anything, you call me, capisce? Her orders given she walked away, leaving the two to talk; sensing that she'd be seeing Tony in here again soon enough she let it lie…she would get her answers soon enough!

Jimmy took a big gulp of his fresh fruit-juice, leant forward on the table and quietly asked him "Are you really going to leave?"

Tony heard the despondency in his young friend's voice and flinched slightly; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt those he cared about. "Yeah, I'm really going to leave; I don't think there's another option…I certainly can't stay. But I'll miss everyone; I will especially miss my _'Goth Girl,' 'Rubber Ducky'_ and _'Love Machine!'_" he grinned at the use of the codenames he had given everyone.

Jimmy attempted to return the smile but it turned into more of a grimace; "We'll miss our _'Bandit'_ too. I didn't hear _'Widow Woman,' 'Spider Mike'_ or _'Snowman'_ in there…they not going to be missed?" he asked curiously.

"Definitely!" Tony stated with such certainty that he left no room for doubt. "It's just a little more complicated with them" Tony added, his brows furrowed. "Look, I'll make you the same promise I made Ducky; I swear on all that I hold dear that I will stay in touch and try to visit when I can."

"Sounds good to me" Jimmy smiled, a little of the uneasiness in his stomach having loosened.

The food had arrived and the conversation had deviated from the solemn into the juvenile ramblings you'd expect from secondary school kids rather than from seasoned federal employees. The talk had meandered into a serious discussion on who would beat who in a Death-Match; they had already compared Rambo to Commando, Bugs Bunny to Mickey Mouse, Steven Segal to Jean-Claude Van-Damme and were comparing notes on Danger Mouse and Mighty Mouse when the shrill ringing of a mobile interrupted them.

Tony answered with a succinct "DiNozzo" and then fell silent, listening to the other end. "Ok Gibbs, I'll head back now. You want me to meet you in the bullpen or in the garage? Ok, see you there." He looked up at Palmer apologetically. "I've got to go; McGee just McPutered a very likely suspect in a recent cold case. You going to stay here and finish up or do you want a lift back?"

Jimmy thought about it and shook his head, "Nah, you go on ahead." He saw Tony reach for his wallet and put out a hand to stop him, "I've got this one, ok?"

Tony smiled and nodded, "Ok, well, I'll see you later." With that, he headed back to NCIS as quickly as he could with a quick kiss the bistro's owner on his way out, leaving Jimmy to his thoughts.

"Something is wrong, si?" came Mama Sorrentino's unexpected voice from nearby. Jimmy looked up at her and saw the very apparent concern for Tony in her eyes; Tony seemed to gather the old mothering types almost as much as the one-night-stand types.

"He's leaving NCIS!"

Mama Sorrentino looked surprised by this, "But he loves his job!" she exclaimed.

"Not so much anymore, I guess. Can I book this place for a last-evening goodbye-celebration type thing?"

"Certo! You tell me when and how many people, I will take care of food and drink and make sure the place is perfect for him."

Jimmy nodded, fully content to leave it all in Mama Sorrentino's capable hands. He paid the bill (despite protestations from the owner) and left, his heart feeling a little lighter than when he arrived.

_**

* * *

**_

The drive into the countryside had breezed by with Gibbs at the wheel and Tony was thankful that his lunch was not sitting too heavy in his stomach. There was little conversation except at the start of the journey when the others caught Tony up to speed with the case. The silence however, hung heavily between the team. McGee was still upset by some of Tony's words yesterday, Ziva was still trying to find the right words to say to Tony later that night and Gibbs had no desire to push his agent too far; he would only get one chance to change this situation and he would not blow it now!

Tony for his part was thinking back over his little talks; Abby, Ducky and Palmer had all agreed that it was his decision to make, and that no matter what it was they would understand and support him accordingly. McGee was still a little bitter about having some of the blame placed on his shoulders but Tony didn't much care…he'd get over it. Gibbs…well he knew there was more to come, a lot more…he just hoped that the next talk would go a little better. He was worried about talking to Ziva though; how would his partner take it? Would she understand? His silent deliberations were interrupted by Gibbs' hasty application of the brake; they had reached their suspect's house.

The house they pulled up at wasn't the worst place they had ever been to, but it certainly ranked; it was just outside a small town not an hours drive from DC. The shutters were falling off or _had_ fallen off, the paint was peeling badly, there were holes in the wooden decking of the veranda and one or two windows contained cracked panes of glass. The lawn was made up of long, straggly grass and rubbish that had just been tipped; Tony caught the odd glimpse of various pieces of drug paraphernalia strewn across the lawn. There was a strong smell of raw sewage, leading the four agents there to believe that the sewage tank was broken, and probably had been for some time. Tony could not understand how it was possible for someone to live with that smell.

Ziva and McGee went around the house to cover the back and Gibbs and Tony went up to the front door. The boss gave a short sharp knock and called out "Mr. Henderson? NCIS. We need to talk." There was no answer, and Gibbs being the patient man that he is quickly kicked the door down. _'Now I'm grateful he has a set of keys to my apartment'_ Tony thought as he looked at the broken door and the splintered doorframe.

They could hear the back door being kicked in and then the four agents methodically started checking the house. There was no sign of the former marine anywhere. Tony stopped suddenly and listened intently; there was a faint hum in the background coming from nearby. The other turned to look at him and followed him once he started to move.

He exited through the back door and headed towards the sound; he saw a barn several hundred metres away. Signalling to the others, he once again raised his fire-arm, pointed at the main entrance to the barn as he prepared to face any potential risk on the inside. There was a sudden squeak of rusting hinges as a side door to the barn opened further down and before any of them had a moment to process anything, a gun shot rang out in the air.

_**

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**_

_**There you go! Who gets shot? Please review and let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up, the fallout of the shooting; what effect will it have on Tony's decision to leave?**_

_**Translations:**_

'_**Madrina'**__** – godmother**_

'_**Per favore'**__** – please**_

'_**Grazie'**__** – thanks**_

'_**Prego'**__** – don't mention it**_

'_**Si'**__** – yes**_

'_**Bene'**__** – good/ok (in this case)**_

'_**Capisce'**__** – understand**_

'_**Certo'**__** – certainly/of course**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thanks to all those who reviewed and alerted and whatnot.**_

_**Can't remember if they use a Glock or a Sig Sauer, so just went with a Glock – sorry if I got it wrong!**_

_**Also, my medical knowledge is very limited; if any of it is very wrong then I apologise if it matters to any of you.**_

_**Who was shot? It might not be who you think! The team deal with the fallout and guilt rears its ugly head.**_

* * *

Tony was a big fan of movies; the fast-paced action of cop movies was always a favourite. At this moment in time, despite the danger and the adrenaline and the fear, all Tony could think about was his films and the fact that they had it wrong. In the movies, everything slowed down…people getting shot, people running, people diving for cover, even the bullets shooting through the air were moving at impossibly reduced speeds.

For some things, Tony found that things did seem to be slower or rather they seemed to have a greater impact and therefore stayed with him longer.

Running and diving, looking for cover…they had become such an instinctual part of his being over the six years as a cop and the eight years as a federal agent; he did all this with quick, measured movements, no thought put into his actions whatsoever.

However, the thing that registered most was the heat he felt as the bullet flew past his left ear. He had a brief, ridiculous notion that his skin was burning from the bullet's path, despite knowing that the bullet hadn't even hit him.

Another thing that was loud and seemed to linger in the air was the sound of the shot. The sound bounced off the buildings and the trees that surrounded their position, and echoed out into the small valley beyond. The echo made it seem like there had been multiple shots; of course, once the agents reached cover and fired back at the suspect this was true. The fading echo of that first shot was replaced by the return fire of three Glocks, the aim true and the bullets finding their way home in the suspect's chest.

Ziva and McGee went to secure the shooter's gun and check for a pulse knowing that finding one was going to be unlikely with the amount of lead he was carrying. Tony started to move towards the barn to check and clear the area when he stopped, his mind processing something…three shots, Ziva and McGee checking the body…he spun round, a desperate _"Gibbs!"_ on his lips which brought the rest of the team running back towards their boss' position.

Gibbs was trying to hold himself up against a gate-post; eyes clenched shut, jaw working furiously trying to keep the noise of his pain from escaping. There was a growing stain on his upper right chest, and for a moment Tony sagged with relief; they could deal with a shoulder wound and a little blood-loss. Then he saw the uneven rise and fall of Gibbs' chest, heard the suppressed groans every time he took a breath in, and he took note of the rising panic in his boss' face…this was not a simple shoulder wound!

"McGee, call for a Med-Evac now! _Ziva!_" she went rushing to her partner at his shout. They reached Gibbs and each took a side, Tony the injured one. Being as gentle as they could they placed their boss on the ground, Tony speaking softly to him with words of encouragement. "That's it Boss! Just stay still and let us take a look, ok? You're going to be alright." He eased his hands down Gibbs' back searching for an exit wound.

Ziva took off her light-weight NCIS coat and placed it under Gibbs' head, she then asked Tony for his suit jacket, which she rolled up and placed underneath Gibbs' feet. Having done what she could to help keep the shock at bay she returned to Gibbs' left side and watched as her partner examined the wound, McGee's words to the emergency switchboard fading into the background.

"Shit!" swore Tony under his breath; Gibbs may have been too consumed with trying to catch his breath and fighting through the pain to hear Tony's expletive, but Ziva caught it.

"What? Tony…what is wrong?" she asked hurriedly, trying to get a look at the wound herself.

"It's not a through-and-through!" he tore the fabric of Gibbs' shirt a little more so he could look at the wound on the front. He let out another soft expletive and closed his eyes willing his knowledge to disappear. "_McGee!_ Where is that damn air-transport?"

McGee was still on line with the operator, giving the co-ordinates or their position to the best of his ability. "They're in the air now; I'm just trying to give them a better understanding of where we are."

"Tell them to look for flashing blue and red lights!" he shouted back to McGee, and then turning to Ziva he asked "go to the car and turn the lights on. See if you can find a blanket or anything…we need to keep him warm. A first-aid kit would be great, but I wouldn't hold your breath…people are fucking irresponsible when it comes to restocking these things!"

While Ziva ran back towards the car, Tony took off his shirt leaving him in only a white wife-beater. He quickly placed the shirt on the gun-shot wound and applied pressure, rousing a soft moan from Gibbs.

"Sorry Boss! Know this is hurting but we've got to stop the bleeding. Transport is on the way; you're gonna be fine!" Despite his words of comfort to his boss, he wasn't feeling quite so certain. Gibbs' breaths were becoming shallower and obviously more painful to the senior agent. His forehead was dripping with sweat and it was getting harder to keep the man awake and certainly to keep him aware.

Seeing him look so still and beat up reminded Tony of the incident that pushed Gibbs into his early retirement; he hoped this wouldn't hold a similar result, although rationally he knew that getting hurt was not why Gibbs left…it was because of the politics!

He was so consumed in his task of trying to staunch the bleeding that Tony didn't notice McGee hovering over his shoulders trying to get a look at his boss' condition. He didn't even notice Ziva returning until the blanket that she threw over Gibbs covered up his own hands.

When Tony heard the distant sound of helicopter blades beating through the air, his heart fluttered with joy. His arms were beginning to ache with the pressure he was applying and his shirt was now sodden with Gibbs' blood; he added the top right hand corner of the blanket to cover the wound without removing his shirt from its position.

There was not a large enough area around their position for the helicopter to land so the pilot touched-down by the car. Ziva, tired of looking on and feeling useless, got up and ran to greet them and show them the way.

Once there, the medics had to move Tony away and take over care of the patient. The agent was loathe to move but knew that the medics would need space to do their job. By now, Gibbs had fallen unconscious and was oblivious to the mad rush going on around him. One medic was taking vitals while another prepared an IV, desperate to get fluids into the leaking agent.

"Breath sounds are shallow and reduced on the right side, gurgling sounds evident, possible pulmonary haemorrhage. We need to get him to a trauma centre, stat, before he drowns in his own blood!" There were a lot of calm but deft movements, securing some thick pads of gauze over the wound and bandaging over the wound to keep them in place. An IV had been quickly inserted and a full bag pushed into Gibbs' system, hastily replaced by another to infuse at a slower rate while the medics prepared the backboard.

Gibbs' was tied down securely and then carried over to the chopper quickly but smoothly, with all three agents trailing behind. They were told rather forcibly that they could not come aboard, not even one of them. The medics felt bad when they saw the crestfallen expressions but they needed room to do their job and that would not be found if the small space in the back of the chopper became anymore cramped.

One medic secured the patient inside the helicopter while another sought to give what little comfort he could to the agents. "Head to Bethesda; it's got the best trauma centre; ETA is fifteen minutes." The medic looked at Tony whose vision alternated between looking at Gibbs and looking at his blood-stained hands. "He's in good hands; have faith!" With that, he closed the doors and placed an oxygen mask over Gibbs' mouth hoping to help keep cyanosis at bay. The helicopter was airborne in seconds, carrying their boss back to DC, bleeding internally and all alone.

Tony looked at his hands; saw all the blood that had managed to climb its way up to his elbows…there was a lot of it on his hands, there was a visible amount on the ground, and too much of it forever soaked into his shirt. "Have faith?" he muttered to himself, "Pah!" he dismissed. A lack of faith was why he was leaving in the first place.

He looked back to where they had placed Gibbs on the ground; the blood was glistening on the grass and the bright white swabs of the gauze scattered about the place strongly contrasted with the bright red that covered most of them. He bent down to pick up his shirt and suit jacket, which had managed to escape the blood. Pulling on his jacket he glanced back at the scene and replayed the shooting in his head.

A side-door to the barn had opened one which they hadn't known about and it surprised them because they were all at the main entrance ready to bust in and do a sweep and clear. A gun-shot rang out and they all dived for cover before returning fire...of course they hadn't all dived for cover and they hadn't all returned fire.

Tony remembered the heat as the bullet whizzed past his ear; remembered thinking about movies and their mistakes. If he had been a few more steps to his left, then he would have caught the bullet and not Gibbs. If he had been paying attention to his partner…to _his_ partner…then maybe the wound could have been avoided, maybe he could have staunched the blood-flow quicker…could have called for a Med-Evac quicker…so many things might have been different; things that could mean the difference between life and death.

He remembered hearing the medic shouting about Gibbs drowning in his own blood; Tony shuddered! When he had the Pneumonic Plague, with every breath he took he could feel the liquid in his lungs, the blood and the mucus that was building up. He remembers gasping for each breath as he slowly drowned in his own fluids; he remembers the pain and that it was the worst feeling he had ever experienced and at one time thought it would be the _last_ thing he experienced. Was Gibbs feeling these things or had the blood-loss drawn him into a merciful unconsciousness?

Why hadn't he _been_ there? Tony was so angry with himself; maybe Gibbs was right not to trust him…after all, he'd stood behind a tractor thinking about movies while his boss, his partner was using all the strength he had just to hold himself up and breath! He looked up and saw McGee and Ziva looking a little lost about what to do.

"Ziva, McGee, take the car, go to Bethesda; I'll stay here and wait for the LEO's…sort out the scene, give a statement and pass Mr. Henderson over to their local M.E." Neither of them made a move. _"Go!"_ he ordered. "I'll call Ducky and Abby…and Vance. No doubt you'll meet them at the hospital."

McGee nodded his head, glad to know that he wouldn't have to hold it all together in front of strange LEO's while he wondered on his boss' condition. Ziva, however, was looking at the partner, eyebrows furrowed; something was not right with her partner!

"We can wait with you Tony, and then we can all go together."

"Officer David, _I_ am the Senior Field Agent, and I gave you an order; now go to the hospital and keep me updated. I'll be along as soon as I'm finished here."

Ziva knew there would be no point arguing with him and nodded her head, following McGee back to the car.

* * *

With the other two gone it was just Tony, a dead Mr. Henderson and a whole lot of blood; the coppery smell was beginning to get to Tony. He pulled out his mobile and called Ducky first, knowing that Abby would be upset she was kept waiting, but Ducky was Gibbs' medical proxy and therefore the priority.

"Ducky, Gibbs caught a bullet; he's being air-lifted to Bethesda and should be there any minute now." He knew he would have to be blunt with Ducky, making sure the man did not divert off into a past-adventure.

"Oh dear! Is it bad? What's the prognosis?" Worry was evident in the Medical Examiner's voice, but the professionalism was still there.

"They think that the right lung has been punctured by the bullet and that it's filling up with blood…I…he lost a lot of blood, Duck…it doesn't look good! I'm about to call Abby, you should get her and take her to Bethesda as soon as you can."

"Ok my boy, I'll see you there."

The dial-tone alerted Tony to the end of the call and then he hit speed-dial 2, Abby. She answered the call in the middle of an obvious caffeine-high and Tony held back a groan; talking to a panicked, caffeine-riddled, rambling Abby was never easy! Just as he expected she started spluttering and panicking and wondering how it was all possible. _'Because of me'_ Tony wanted to shout; instead he told her to find Ducky and head over to Bethesda.

"Ok, Tony," Abby woefully agreed, sounding the polar opposite of how she answered the phone. "Will you be there soon?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'll be there as soon as I can be! The local LEO's have just pulled up, Abs, I've got to go. Keep me updated." He didn't wait for an answer and hung up quickly, knowing that Abby would forgive his current frame of mind.

He headed towards one of the officers and introduced himself; "Hello, I'm Special Agent DiNozzo, NCIS," he could see a flicker of confusion in some of the officers' eyes, but the one he was addressing had clearly heard of them…_thank god!_ "We came out here to discuss a recent find on a cold case with a Mr. Trevor Henderson, the DB you can see over there. House was empty; we were heading to the barn when he came out of a side-door, surprising us. He got a shot off before we could react, which wounded our team-lead; we returned fire taking down the perp."

Tony was amazed he had managed to sound so detached as he related the details of the shooting to a stranger. He felt his heart, which had been beating too quickly ever since he first realised Gibbs had not returned fire, thumping against his rib-cage.

Officer Simmons was an easy-going cop but had a definite edge to him, 'definitely former military' thought Tony. The officer was mid-fifties, greying and just shy of six feet tall…and he was built like a brick shithouse. Simmons took a proper statement from Tony and copied down his contact information. "This all seems pretty straight-forward to me." He looked over towards the body; "Son of a bitch opened fire without due cause, he got what he deserved!"

He took a good look at the federal agent in front of him; the man's arms were covered in dry, cracking blood, and his shirt was still clenched tightly in his hands despite the fact it was useless now. He noticed DiNozzo's eyes kept wandering back to the blood-covered spot where his boss had obviously been. He'd seen enough combat to know the effects of seeing a friend take a hit like that. Knowing you had survived was more than enough to cause guilty feelings, but after he had heard the Senior Field Agent's statement, he knew that the close proximity to his boss would be making him feel worse.

"The M.E. should be here soon; we can take care of the body. We've got your statement and we can get in touch if we need more. You got anyone coming to collect you?"

Tony shook his head and answered with a quiet "No" before staring at the bloody swabs again, replaying his actions in his head, trying to find any way the outcome could have been avoided.

"C'mon," Simmons placed a hand gently on his shoulder, not wanting to startle him, "I'll give you a lift."

"You don't have to give me a lift _all_ the way to DC" Tony protested weakly.

"DC ain't _that_ far, kid, and it means the deputies will have taken care of the bulk of paperwork by the time I get back." He saw his joke did little to cheer the Senior Field Agent up, but some of the tension in his shoulders had eased up.

* * *

The car ride started in silence and this continued for the first ten minutes. Tony still feeling guilty and trying to think of different ways the scenario might have played out had he done something differently.

Simmons, for his part, was happy to allow the agent some time to think but knew he would have to step in soon; the mental self-flagellation the kid was doing was worrying.

"So," the officer's voice interrupted the silence, "You and your boss seem close."

Tony paused his mental anguish and tried to think of a response, but nothing came to mind. He and Gibbs had never been _'close'_ emotionally, but they had worked together for eight years and had shared all sorts of situations together. He knew his boss let him get away with a lot of his childish antics because he could also get the desired results for a case. They had both relied upon each other, _literally_ placing their lives in each other's hands. But _'close?' _Tony wasn't sure. He settled for a non-committal shrug of his shoulders.

Simmons raised one eyebrow at this. The kid had been more than happy to give his statement, but now he was impossible to get any information out of him. "You worked together long?" he asked, hoping to keep the agent distracted from his mental rebukes.

"Eight years" came the soft reply.

Simmons gave a brief whistle of appreciation. It wasn't unusual for small town cops to work together for long periods of time, but everything was far more transient in the cities. "That's a fair amount of time to be working under someone. He must be a good boss to have deserved your loyalty all these years."

At this Tony gave the officer a piercing look; "What makes you think I've been loyal?" He did not expect the officer to laugh at this.

"Kid, in my line of work, in both the military and law-enforcement, you get an eye for these sorts of things…they _do_ tend to be rather important. And you…you've got it in spades!"

Tony shook his head, "There have been plenty of times when I've followed someone else's orders rather than his," he said, thinking about Jenny and the Grenouille op.

"Yeah?" asked Simmons with interest, "And how did that turn out for you?"

Tony frowned, "Badly…" he admitted, "…but then things haven't always gone great when I _have_ followed his orders!" he pointed out.

It was Simmons' turn to shrug, "That can happen no matter how good your CO is."

Tony nodded, all too aware of how quickly things could go wrong. "Shit!" he exclaimed suddenly, reaching for his cell-phone.

"Everything ok?" Simmons asked apprehensively.

"I forgot to call the damn Director!"

Simmons didn't miss the way the agent sneered at the word _'director.'_ It was easy to tell that there was no love lost there; he could understand that…there were many superior officers he had met that he would gladly have thrown to the enemy. 'Stupid politics!' he thought.

Tony was thinking much the same thing as he waited for the secretary to transfer him to Vance's office. He was met with a haughty _'Director Vance speaking'_ and tried not to growl.

"Director" he forced the word out, "Agent Gibbs has been injured in the line of duty; he's been air-lifted to Bethesda." He could hear Vance sigh on the other end of the line.

"Was it avoidable Agent DiNozzo?"

Trust Vance to go there now, when Tony wasn't even sure of the answer himself. "I'm not sure, Director" he answered honestly…not like much could happen anyway, he was already leaving. "You'll get our reports and you can judge for yourself, sir."

There was a brief silence, followed by another sigh, "I'm still waiting for your official resignation."

Tony bit the retort on the tip of his tongue and spat out a quick "You'll get it" before he hung up. Why not piss him off just that bit more?

Simmons pretended he hadn't heard the call and Tony refused to acknowledge it. Silence returned to the marked car once again.

* * *

The cop car pulled in near the ambulance bay outside Bethesda hospital. Tony looked over towards Simmons and held out a hand which the officer shook firmly. "Thanks for the lift. Get in touch if you need anything." He climbed out of the car and stared at the hospital; he really didn't want to face the team right now. He looked back into the marked car and gave another "Thanks!"

"You're welcome kid; I'll be in touch." He watched as the agent headed over towards the two big automatic doors and hesitated before going in. He shook his head; _'he was an interesting agent' _mused Simmons, 'I'll definitely be back.' He reversed the car out of the bay and headed home.

* * *

Tony went to the main reception and asked about Special Agent Gibbs' condition, showing his badge and a winning smile to the petite brunette working the desk. Gibbs was still in surgery. Tony gave the receptionist his mobile number and asked to be contacted when he was out of the O.R. He then went back out through the double doors and headed for home, all to aware that he would be receiving some pretty strong words from Abby before the day was out.

But he couldn't face them all yet. He couldn't face Gibbs.

He needed a long hard run to work off some of his tensions, an even longer, scalding shower to remove the blood, a clean change of clothes and a comfortable bed. Maybe then, he would be ready to face the world when it came charging at him later.

* * *

_**There you go…let me know what you think!**_

_**Sorry to all those who were hoping Tony would take the bullet…but this adds many complications to the situation…who will talk Tony out of leaving now that Gibbs is incapacitated?**_

_**Next up, Tony sneaks in to see Gibbs and is confronted by an irate Abby. Ziva tries to talk to her partner, after missing drinks due to the shooting.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thanks to all those who reviewed and alerted and I'm sorry about the slight delay.**_

_**Some people said they were not going to continue reading this story once they realised it was not Tony who got shot, so thanks to all those who are giving me a shot and sticking with me to the end!**_

_**Once again…**__**'leant'**__** and **__**'learnt'**__** are perfectly acceptable past participles…so can you please stop giving reviews saying that they are grammatically incorrect…**__**please**__**!**_

_**Tony goes to see Gibbs and faces the wrath of Abby. Ziva goes to see her partner and try to get some answers.**_

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_**TWELVE DAYS TO GO**_

Tony's run last night had been exhausting. He had run almost eight miles at a gruelling pace. Waking up that morning he felt the full effects of his physical and emotional workout; his arms and legs felt heavy and stiff, his knees were aching and unwilling to bend without caving in on him. He was shaking too; food would probably have been a good idea last night!

He looked blearily over at his clock, 10.12am. He shot out of bed, aches and pains temporarily forgotten…Christ he was late! The run may have helped ease some of the tension in his shoulders last night but it had exhausted him and now he was very late and most likely in trouble with The Toothpick.

Once that thought entered his mind he froze. _'Fuck it'_ he thought; why the hell should he give a damn about Vance? In twelve days he was gone, so what did it matter?

He walked into his small kitchen, looking for something that was in date and edible; he needed something of substance that would hopefully stop his shaking. He was pulling out some chocolate brioche when he heard his mobile…might as well face the music.

Digging it out of yesterday's suit pocket he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Ducky ringing him and not Vance. "Ducky?" he croaked out. God his throat was dry. He made his way back to the kitchen to find some water.

"Anthony dear boy, I have told the Director that we all need a day to recover. He was rather reluctant at first but I think I managed to persuade him that having three sleep-deprived agents, a caffeine-ridden lab-technician and two rather distracted morticians would not be a wise decision."

Whilst Tony was tired he couldn't say he was sleep deprived having just slept the longest he had in months, but he was grateful for Ducky's intervention. "Thanks Duck!" he didn't know what else to say. Should he address his absence at the hospital yesterday or just ignore it?

"It was no trouble at all I assure you. He will however, expect us all in tomorrow regardless of Jethro's condition, and he will expect everyone's reports too."

"Thanks Ducky" he repeated.

"Certainly, dear boy. Get yourself to bed, you sound like you need it. I will see you tomorrow Anthony." And with that he was gone.

Tony was beyond grateful towards Ducky. The older man knew when to push and when to back off; understanding what was needed without needing to know what was wrong. He'd have to get the M.E. some more of his favourite tea to repay him for this favour.

_**

* * *

**_

He entered the hospital and headed straight up to ICU, eager to see the Boss for himself. He paused outside Gibbs' room and listened intently; he couldn't hear any voices. Cracking open the door slightly he gave a quick glance around the room. No-body was in there, but a coat that could only have been Abby's was thrown over the back of a chair by the bed. She must be getting caffeine.

He made his way over to the bed and sat down. Staring towards the sleeping figure he got his first real look at his boss and did not like what he saw. Gibbs' pale skin merged with the stark white of the bed sheets; his eyes were closed, seemingly at peace, but the IV inserted into the back of his hand made Tony believe that the sleep was only peaceful because it was drug-induced. The worst thing though was the ventilator…the breathing tube that had been shoved down Gibbs' throat, doing all the work that his body couldn't.

Tony sank back into the chair, staring miserably at his boss. He knew that the constant _'beep beep'_ of the heart monitor should be a comforting sound, but it just reminded him that he had screwed up…that he had let his partner get shot!

He was so consumed with his thoughts and self-flagellation that he did not notice Abby's return, or the furrowing of her brows and the hands on her hips.

"Tony!" she said loudly, not quite shouting but near enough.

Tony almost jumped out of his skin, "Jesus Christ Abby!"

She stomped over to him and hit him, _hard_, on his shoulder, "Where _were_ you Tony? Gibbs gets shot and you go to _bed_?"

Tony unconsciously rubbed his shoulder and looked back at Gibbs, searching for any sign of stirring. "You really want to do this here, Abs?"

The hands went back to her hips, "Damn right I do, buster! You should have been here!"

"I know…alright!" Tony shouted, frustration getting the better of him; "I know that, but I just…I couldn't, ok? I couldn't face seeing him like this!"

Abby felt her anger die down when she heard the hitch in her friend's voice. Being the lab-rat that she was, she had never been in the field and seen someone…a friend…get hurt. She thought back to the last time she saw Gibbs like this; he had quit and gone off to Mexico as soon as he discharged himself.

"He's ok Tony," she saw the look of disbelief that passed across her friend's face; "He is! They decided to keep him on the ventilator to ease the pressure on his lungs and so that his body could concentrate on healing rather than breathing. He has drugs for the pain, antibiotics…he'll be fine!" she tried to reassure him. She tried another tactic, "At least he will be until he discovers the urinary catheter." She was rewarded with a small laugh from Tony…not exactly heart-felt, but better than nothing.

The smile quickly vanished and Tony shook his head, looking down at his hands and fidgeting. "I did it again Abs," he said sadly.

Abby wasn't sure what he was talking about but she was very thankful that he was talking at all. "Did what again, Tony?"

"I messed up" Tony confessed, "And Gibbs nearly died because of it."

Abby was confused, she had been given a quick rundown on yesterday's events by both Ziva and McGee, and not once did she ever hear anything that merited Tony's self-blame. She knew her friend had a tendency to take any blame that was lying around, but did he really find himself culpable in this? "Tony…"

"I should have done something…stopped Henderson before he…" Tony stopped, unable to vocalise his thoughts for fear of seeing the condemnation in Abby's eyes.

"Tony," Abby said softly, gently cupping his chin and forcing him to look at her, "Tony, you did nothing wrong!"

"How can you say that? I was there…I was right next to him and when that shot rang out I ducked for cover…I didn't even turn round to see if he'd done the same or if he was ok. I wasn't where he needed me to be and he got shot and he was bleeding out…just like Jenny! I wasn't there Abby!" Tears came unwelcome, pooling in the corners of his eyes. "I wasn't there" he repeated miserably.

Abby couldn't believe he thought any of this was his fault, that Jenny's death was his fault. "Tony, you _were_ there! You helped stop the bleeding; you and Ziva stopped him from going into shock…you _saved_ his life Tony! None of you knew Henderson was there, not even Gibbs, and he knows everything…well except that Henderson was going to shoot him, cos then I'm pretty sure he would have moved out of the line of fire and…"

"Abby…" Tony put his index finger to her lips, silencing her.

"Sorry…I've had a lot of Caff-Pows and I'm a little on edge. You can't blame yourself for this and you can't blame yourself for the Director…well…the last Director…cos she would have done whatever she wanted to!" Abby had liked Jenny, but knew that she was a woman who would do anything to achieve her goal...as she did with Réné Benoit.

Tony shook his head, "No, there's always something you can do."

"Well Gibbs' gut didn't tell him until it was too late, and Ziva's superhuman ninja senses weren't tingling away and McGee…well…McGee didn't see anything was off either. It's not your fault and I want you to pinky-promise me that you know that and that you'll stop blaming yourself for everything." She held out her smallest finger not believing for one second that she would be disobeyed, but Tony did not return the gesture immediately, so she picked up his hand and made the gesture herself.

"Abby, if there was a way I could have changed the outcome and I failed to find it then…"

"Do you blame yourself for Kate getting shot?" Abby interrupted bluntly.

"What?" Tony was confused…_'that came out of nowhere!' _he thought.

"You were there…you were right next to her, so was Gibbs. Just like Ziva and McGee were right next to you at the farm. On that rooftop not one of you knew there was a crazy Hamas terrorist on some personal vendetta with a sniper's rifle pointed at you. Just like on that farm not one of you knew there was some crazy sailor who was gonna go all _'suicide-by-cop'_ on you."

She left a few minutes silence while Tony gathered his thoughts. "It was _not_ your fault Tony…not with Kate, not with Jenny and not with this! Shit happens…right? And sometimes there isn't anything you can do about it. Now pinky-promise me, _double_ pinky-promise me that you will stop wallowing in self-doubt and…"

"DiNozzo's don't wallow" Tony pointed out quietly.

Abby smiled at this and then continued; "Promise me _now_!" she demanded, hooking up both there hands by grasping at his little fingers.

Tony looked up into her eyes and saw the sincerity there, the accusations he feared seeing in those eyes were not visible, and so with a sigh he agreed, "I promise!"

"Good" stated Abby, and then she hit him upside the head.

"Ow!" he cried, "I did what you asked me" he pointed out with indignation.

"That was for thinking it in the first place" Abby said, not at all repentant. "Now go home and get some sleep; you look like crap and the nurses are gonna need you to save them from Gibbs when he wakes up and finds out where that tube goes" she ended with a wicked grin.

Still rubbing at his head, Tony smiled. Abby had always been one of those _'call it as you see it'_ kind of people, and he had definitely needed that. He was sure he would carry on playing back yesterday's events looking for a way he could have changed the outcome, but knowing Abby didn't blame him lightened the weight on his soul just enough. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and a flick of her pig-tails. He was heading to the door, when McGee almost broke his nose with it coming in.

"Oh," said McGee, "Look who finally decided to show up!"

Tony got a little upset at the accusation in his voice which Abby saw plain as day flickering in his troubled green eyes. She did not want to see all her hard work go to waste and levelling McGee with her best evil glare went over to Tony, gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him to go back home to bed.

She made a mental note to send Palmer over with some food in the evening; she knew Tony never looked after himself properly when he was feeling all melancholy.

McGee, who had been a little alarmed at Abby's glare, became concerned when he actually looked at the Senior Field Agent; Tony was haggard and his eye-sockets were almost black with fatigue. He suddenly felt incredibly guilty, knowing that everyone dealt with things differently.

"I'm sorry Tony; I'm just tired and snappish" McGee admitted; "We're all so worried about Gibbs but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Sorry!"

Tony looked up at McGee, grateful for the little olive branch that was being offered here; he took it willingly, "No problem McGee; I'm sorry I wasn't here last night!" he stated sincerely.

Abby was proud of her favourite little MIT agent when she saw the small smile that briefly graced Tony's face, then the face died and she remembered her orders; _**"Bed!"**_ she cried.

Tony scarpered.

_**

* * *

**_

Ziva knocked on her partner's door, hoping he would answer but not sure how she would talk to him. Tony had been acting so _un__-Tony_ that she didn't know how to handle him right now. She wondered if Gibbs would know what to do, although she was pretty sure that a head-slap would not solve this.

The soft patter of bare feet on wooden floorboards approached the door and Ziva took a deep breath to try and prepare herself. When the door opened, she was greeted by a haggard-looking DiNozzo; he was dressed in a loose pair of trousers and a ragged Ohio State t-shirt. He had a real bed-head but judging by the bags under his eyes he had been doing anything but sleeping. He said nothing, but looked at Ziva expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Tony…" she started hesitantly, "Are you ok?"

Tony snorted and went back into his apartment; however, he did leave the door open rather than slamming it in her face, so Ziva took that as an invitation to enter. She found him sat on the sofa in front of his TV, an old black and white film playing quietly. She saw the beer bottles on his coffee table…definitely not ok!

"You were not at the hospital" she stated simply. "We all waited for you because you said that you would see us there, but you never came. I wanted to come and find you but Ducky told us to leave you alone."

Tony nodded; that sounded like Ducky, once again understanding what was needed even if he didn't know what was wrong.

"Gibbs will be fine; he is in the ICU now and they are…"

"Ziva" Tony interrupted quietly, "I know how Gibbs is doing ok; I'm not that cold!"

"I didn't think you were." Ziva was frustrated; Tony was giving her nothing to work with…no conversation starters, no improper jokes…

"What are you doing here Ziva?" Tony asked tiredly.

"You are my partner, I was concerned!" she ignored Tony's raised eyebrow when she said _'partner.'_ She sat down on an arm-chair and looked Tony straight in the eye. She could no longer hold this question back; "Why are you leaving?"

Tony knew that this conversation was overdue with Ziva, but he did not relish talking things over in light of the previous day's events. "Does it matter why?"

Ziva's brows furrowed with confusion, "Of course it matters why. Is it because of the trap that was set for Agent Lee?"

"Partly." It was another frustratingly small word from Tony. She might complain when he was in a particularly verbose mood but right now she'd rather hear his inane chatter than go through this…it was like pulling teeth with a pair of pliers.

"We talked about it. We both agreed that we were…disappointed…" she said trying to find the right word; "we had both hoped that all of the lies and the manipulation would end with Jenny." She saw Tony wince at that name and knew that the events in LA would always haunt him.

"You remember what else was said in that elevator Ziva?" he didn't leave any time for her to give a response; "You said, and I quote, _'You have had enough of this job then.' _You were right, I have! I am sick and tired of being used and never knowing why." He hunched over then and hung his head, eyes squeezed shut. "I love this job, Ziva, but I can't work here anymore."

When Ziva's mind had processed enough of her partner's words she was able to formulate a response; "Why not?"

"How can I work with a team that doesn't trust me and that _I _can't trust?"

Ziva flinched at that. "You _can_ trust us…you can trust _me_!"

Tony looked up at this, an indescribable emotion haunting his eyes, "Trust _you_? Like you trusted _me_?" Ziva's confusion at this was clearly written across her face. "When you were in trouble, you went to Gibbs not me…because you didn't trust that I'd be able to help you."

"No! No…that is not why I did not go to you; I did not want to put you in danger. And Gibbs owed me!"

Tony shook his head, not ready to believe her. "You…no…you _and_ McGee didn't trust me to lead the team; you certainly didn't respect me as team lead!"

"That is not true Tony, we…"

"It doesn't _matter_ Ziva…can we just leave it alone for now? I'm tired! I want to go to bed."

Ziva sighed but acquiesced, she could tell her partner could not take much more pushing. "Ok, but no more drinking Tony, please!"

Tony gave a quick glance towards the bottles, there were only three on the table and only two and a bit of them were empty. He thought Ziva was over-reacting but he appreciated her concern and so nodded.

As she was exiting, Ziva paused, "I think that maybe you were right with what you said earlier, that when Gibbs was in Mexico I did not treat you with the respect you deserved as team leader. But it was only because I still thought of you when you were Senior Field Agent, I thought of you as my friend and not my boss. Tomorrow you will be our team-leader…I will try to treat you with the respect the position deserves." She left without another word, determined to show Tony that she was not one the reasons he had for leaving.

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_**There you go. Let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up…the team have to carry on working without Gibbs and with Vance breathing down their necks. How will Tony handle being team leader once more? Will the others behave any differently this time?**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thanks to all reviewers and alerters!**_

_**Tony is temporary team leader and has to bury his fraught emotions to cope with the responsibility, as well as handle Vance. Gibbs is slowly recovering and gets a visitor.**_

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_**ELEVEN DAYS TO GO**_

The past couple of years had left Tony in a state of almost constant exhaustion; leading the team solo for four months, working undercover, trying to keep DiNozzo separate from DiNardo and lying to everyone he cared about, losing Jenny the way they did, being sent of to sea…

The ten solid hours of sleep he had did little to alleviate his fatigue. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror; was this really him looking back? His normally smooth chin was an unshaven mess, his eye-sockets were almost black, the bags under his eyes and the now-constant frown lines in his forehead added years to his appearance. God he needed a holiday!

A quick shower managed to briefly rejuvenate his tired soul. He dressed in a sharp, black suit, trying to build up the image of a man who was confident to lead; an image he sure as hell didn't believe in right now…how the Hell could he expect _others_ to?

He checked his watch…he still had time. He would get into NCIS a little earlier than usual, but first he had a slight detour to make.

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Abby was still at the hospital, although the change of clothes told him that she had had the good sense to go home, freshen up and change. She was asleep in a big chair pulled as close to the bed as possible; her knees tucked up to her chest. Tony took another seat by the side of his boss' bed and this time he allowed the constant _'beep beep'_ of the heart monitor to deliver him some comfort, his self-recriminations having been eased slightly by his chirpy gothic friend the previous day.

His boss' skin tone was still looking very ashen, but having had his blood levels replenished he was nowhere near as pale as he had been the other day. The ventilator was still present and the whooshing noise it made was all the evidence Tony needed to know that Gibbs was still not out of the woods just yet.

A small, gasping yawn from over the other side of the bed tore his attention away from his boss' fragile form. Abby stretched out, cat-like, even emitting a soft mewling noise as she extended her body. She looked at Tony and blinked owlishly, slowly registering his presence.

"Hey Tony, are you feeling any better?"

Tony nodded at her, a gentle smile playing on his lips; "You have a _comfortable_ night's sleep, Abs?"

Abby ignored his sarcasm and looked over at Gibbs. "He's looking a little better isn't he…I mean his pulse is steady now, no more jumping all over the place, and his BP has gone back to _almost_ normal…for a caffeine-addicted agent who works a stressful job I mean. The doctors said that if all of his vitals are ok at the end of the day, they'll ease him off the sedatives and eventually try to extubate him in the next couple of days; they don't want to keep the tubes in any longer than necessary…all the risks and everything. I'll be so glad when that stupid noise stops cos it is really…"

"Abby," Tony interrupted her rambling, "he'll be fine!" he tried to reassure her, knowing that was what she needed. "This is Gibbs we're talking about; he'll be wide awake and demanding to shoot Henderson again just for the hell of it, glaring at every doctor, nurse and team-member who dares to try and stop him. He'll be fine Abs!"

Abby smiled; she knew Tony was trying to reassure her and she knew that it had worked. "We better get to work then Buster; can't be late when you're the Boss…what kind of example would that be?"

Tony laughed; they exited the hospital together, Abby's hand planted firmly in Tony's.

_**

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**_

Making his way into the bullpen he was sure he'd been worrying over nothing; Vance was sure to try and take over operations, right? The guy had made it no secret just how little he thought of Tony, so surely the Director wouldn't allow him to lead…would he?

"Agent DiNozzo" called Vance from the walk-way that lead in to MTAC; "My office please." He walked away, not stopping to check and see whether or not his orders were being followed.

Tony dumped his stuff on his desk and stalked up the stairs, ignoring the openly curious glances he was receiving from the bullpen; since the very public announcement of his leaving NCIS, the office scuttlebutt had gone into crazy overtime.

The whispers were one thing…he could deal with those, but the eyes that followed him and now catalogued his every move were beginning to drive him crazy. It reminded him of his early days in the agency...Special Agent _'Second __**'B'**__ for Bastard'_ Gibbs had earned a reputation of changing agents as often as he changed his underwear. He knew there was a pool going on how long the homicide detective from Baltimore would last. All eyes were on him then too, waiting for the time when he royally fucked things up and got booted right out of Gibbs' team; he'd lasted eight years…three whole years more than Burley…he allowed a brief moment of smugness.

Vance was sitting behind his desk, looking every bit the bureaucrat that federal agencies seemed to like these days. Tony didn't wait for an invitation…he sat himself down on the other side of the table from Vance and tried to find some inner strength to get him through this meeting.

"I'll need your report on the shooting."

"You have it. I e-mailed you a copy and there's a hard-copy in my bag; I can go and get it now." He said hesitantly, wondering why Vance was stalling.

"Before noon today will be fine; the same goes for McGee and David."

Tony nodded, "You'll have them." McGee always churned out his reports quickly and Ziva's reports were never very long, short but straight to the point.

"I'm still awaiting your official resignation, on paper."

Tony sighed; he wanted to know what this was really about. "I'll print off another copy today."

"You are the Senior Field Agent, chain of command means you'll be leading the team in Gibbs' absence," Vance stated matter-of-factly.

'_Here we go,'_ thought Tony, _'Now we're getting there!'_ He waited in silence…waited for the moment when Vance told him that there wasn't a snow-ball's chance in Hell that the Director would willingly hand over the reins.

"I think the team needs a little break, so any new cases that come in will go to the other agents in the MCRT; you can work more of the cold cases unless we get more new cases than we can handle."

Tony rolled his eyes; surely this was Vance-Talk for _'I don't think you can handle it!'_

Vance caught the eye-roll and corrected Tony's assumption; "This isn't because I don't think you'd be able to handle working a case without Gibbs. I've read your file DiNozzo; I know you did a good job during those four months when Gibbs was in Mexico. In fact, I know that you handled the position so well that you were offered the Rota position in Spain…one which you turned down."

Tony looked up at this…was that a hint of _praise_ in Vance's voice?

The Director continued, "I do however, believe that Doctor Mallard was correct when he said that you were all feeling a little worse-for-wear. I can't afford to lose an entire team at the moment, but I _**can**_ afford to let you do the less demanding work."

Vance saw the confusion on DiNozzo's face…saw it and revelled in it slightly. Gibbs may have a more unemotional poker face than his Senior Field Agent but DiNozzo was a _master_ in the art of misdirection; if he didn't want you knowing his true feelings he'd simply bombard you with anything and everything in his arsenal, drawing you away from the subject at hand. Getting DiNozzo to reveal a real part of himself was a satisfying accomplishment Vance decided.

He wasn't lying when he said that the Agency needed more McGee's than DiNozzo's; the Age of the Computers had already been established and technology was definitely the weapon of the future. He also preferred _by-the-book_ agents rather than those who went off script as the Senior Field Agent and even Gibbs were prone to do. However, he saw how much Gibbs had wanted DiNozzo back on the team and he noticed how fluidly the team worked when they were all reunited. He couldn't honestly say that he was disappointed DiNozzo had decided to leave NCIS, sometimes personality clashes were irrevocable, but he knew it was a decision that would hit his best team hard.

"Understood, Sir!" Tony wasn't sure what to make of Vance's concern; whether it was genuine or fake he really didn't have the energy to figure it out. "Is there anything else?"

"No, not at this moment; you can go."

Tony gladly complied; he couldn't wait to get out of that office and escape the weird twilight zone he had apparently stumbled into.

_**

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**_

After spending several hours going over cold cases, Tony knew that Abby, Ziva or even Ducky must have said something to McGee. The junior agent had brought him a coffee with a bacon and lettuce bagel and had followed all of Tony's orders without complaining…not once!

Both Ziva and McGee were following his orders and his lead without questioning his logic, as well as being respectful. However, what Tony appreciated most was that they did not continually tell him _'You are __**not**__ Gibbs, Tony!'_ unlike last time, where the repeated phrase had driven him to near-insanity.

"Tony, I did a little more digging into Officer Perez's past, looking for a reason why someone would kill him and I discovered that he had a juvenile record; it's been sealed obviously. However, I got the name of his Public Defender. Do you want me to try and talk to him…see what he remembers?"

Tony was a little shocked at McGee's deference, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Sure, good work Tim!" His Probie beamed back at him, happy for the praise.

The talk with the Public Defender revealed drug problems amongst Perez's school-friends, one of them served with Perez in Afghanistan.

By early evening, with another cold case one step closer to being solved, he sent the team home at a regular hour, turned down their offers of a drink at a local bar and headed back to the hospital to check on his boss.

_**

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**_

The next few days passed much the same; the team looked into old cases, occasionally finding additional clues that could lead to an arrest but more often than not hitting the same dead ends the previous investigators had hit. Vance did not interfere, as Tony had feared he would, and both Ziva and McGee were still being respectful of his position as team lead, refraining from comparing his sometimes unusual methods to Gibbs' own unorthodox style.

The boss was still in the hospital, although they had eased him off the sedatives and were waiting for him to stir before extubating. With his body on total bed-rest the wound was healing nicely; there was still a long road to recovery but they had not yet met any unforeseen complications.

It was now just a matter of waiting.

_**

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_**EIGHT DAYS TO GO**_

Tony got an early morning wake-up call. He could feel his heart stop dead as his first thought led him to believe that something had gone wrong, that a complication had arisen and his boss had…all alone too…!

Vance's voice did not have an altogether soothing effect either, he could still feel his heart punching against his ribcage and his hands were shaking with nervous energy that only 4am wake-up calls could provide.

A body had been found in the Potomac, wearing a Naval BDU (Battle Dress Uniform). All the team leads in MCRT had other cases they were focusing on, so Tony and his team were up. Tony felt a little excited about working a real _active_ case again; he was not meant to sit behind a desk!

He thanked Vance…_thanked_ him! Maybe it was the early morning, the lack of sleep and the caffeine deficiency, or maybe it was the prospect of doing something other than paperwork…but still, he thought Hell would freeze over before he ever showed any small amount of gratitude towards The Toothpick!

_**

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**_

As Tony was calling around the other members of his team, including Abby and Ducky whose skills would doubtlessly be needed, another team member was waking up.

Gibbs felt heavy…there was no other way to describe it. At first, he was barely conscious, only aware that he felt heavy and tired and that there was something scratching his throat. He tried to lift up a hand to remove whatever it was that was irritating him, but found he couldn't really lift his arm…too heavy! So instead he tried to swallow, hoping the saliva might help ease the discomfort.

_**Mistake!**_

Panic set in as he discovered that the reason he couldn't swallow properly was because there was something stuck down his damn throat. The heart monitor noted his panic as the _'beep beep'_ of the machine dramatically increased. He once again tried to bring up a hand, hoping to remove the offending item. Everything still felt heavy but being a former Jarhead he carried on regardless.

Lifting his dominant right hand he felt the tug of stitches on his upper right chest; a sharp, shooting pain shot through his right side dragging out a surprised groan of pain. The heart monitor once again recorded the man's situation as his pulse increased still further. Trying to breathe around the tube he slowly lifted his left hand to his mouth only to have someone hold it back.

He cracked open an eye and looked blearily at the human restraint…blue scrubs, a stethoscope…a nurse…his scrambled mind managed to put together. He was in a hospital? The image cleared slightly; she was a tiny woman…very petite; surely he could get his hand away from _her_? Didn't she realise he couldn't breathe? He could see her mouth moving but couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that he had something stuck down his throat.

He felt someone tap his cheek and hold his face. A pretty red-headed woman in a white coat was looking at him, straight into his eyes. Gibbs had always liked green eyes.

"Jethro?" she tried his given name, hoping to calm her patient down. "We're going to take this tube out, but we need you to calm down. Do you understand?"

The eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to ignore the tube and concentrate on the pretty red-head. Doctor Emma Spencer repeated her words until she got a slight nod off her patient.

"Ok, I want you to take a deep breath, as deep as you can manage, and when I say so, I want you to exhale. Understand?" She received another almost imperceptible nod. "Ok, breathe in."

Gibbs took as deep a breath as he could manage; he sucked in air greedily, desperate to get this over and done with, when all of a sudden his right side was overcome with shooting pains once again; it felt like fire was spreading through his right lung. Not able to hold his breath in the face of unexpected pain, his lungs emptied.

"I know it hurts Jethro, but we need you to do this. You ready to try again?" Emma caught the brief look of fire in her patient's eyes and knew the man would give it another go straight away. "Ok, breathe in…and exhale!"

The tube came out quickly and Gibbs almost ended up coughing out a lung. "Ow!" he muttered quietly once he had recovered his breath, his left hand resting lightly over the pain in his right side. He glared at one of the nurses who was trying to fit the uncooperative patient with a nasal cannula; the sharp look he received from the red-head quietened any further arguments he had on his tongue.

The thing stuck in his nose was not quite as intrusive as the one he had had shoved down his throat, but it was still annoying. However, he found that the fire had quickly left him, and now he felt heavy once again. He couldn't recall why he was in the hospital, and no-one was there to tell him…but right now he was too tired, and too heavy!

_**

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**_

Gibbs woke up a few more times during the morning, never for very long and rarely coherent. However, just after four o'clock in the afternoon he awoke to find an unexpected face by his bed-side.

"Tobias!" he greeted. God his throat was sore!

Fornell handed him an ice-chip that a nurse had delivered as soon as it looked like Gibbs was waking. "You tell anyone I did that and there will be trouble!"

As was the nature of their friendship, neither one liked to be seen as being _'nice,'_ and certainly not with each other. However, they had helped each other out too many times over the years to have any genuine feelings of animosity towards each other.

Gibbs sucked greedily on the ice-chip, sure he had never tasted anything so sweet. A few more ice-chips later and Gibbs found his voice again, "What happened?" it still sounded gravelly and under-used.

"From what I gather, you were following up on a cold-case lead…which evidently someone took offence at, so they shot you. Can't say I blame them; shooting you is an urge I have to fight daily."

Gibbs gave a small smile at the rejoinder but lost it again quickly as he tried to remember the events that had brought him to hospital. He couldn't.

Happy to steer the conversation in another direction, Fornell said without pulling any punches "You know…there's a rumour going round that your Senior Field Agent is looking for a new home." Fornell caught the slight wince in Gibbs' eyes and knew that the man remembered _**that**_ at least. DiNozzo was a real pain in the ass in all sorts of ways; he was immature, spent far too much time listening to his dick rather than his head and he could talk the hind legs off a donkey. However, there was no doubt about it…Agent DiNozzo was one hell of an investigator!

He would be lying if he said he wasn't going to try and recruit the man, and after all, if Gibbs could survive him surely he could too.

"DiNozzo's not going anywhere!" said Gibbs firmly. The memories of Tony handing in his letter of resignation, of the accusations he had thrown about…those were memories Gibbs could do without, but ones he knew needed to be addressed.

"That's his decision, surely?" Gibbs gave no response to that. "Well, there's always a place for him over at the Hoover Building. I'll have to stop by NCIS and give him my card."

Gibbs glared at the man, well aware that Fornell was trying to get a rise out of him…succeeding too; however, he was also aware that Fornell was 100% serious about offering Tony a job with the FBI…_again_!

He could feel another yawn climb its way up his throat. Damn, he hated feeling this tired and drugged up…couldn't even last a whole conversation.

Fornell saw the exhaustion wash over his friend's face ad knew he was fading fast. "Get some rest; I've had to butt heads with Agent Degas over at NCIS, and he's nowhere near as fun to antagonise. I'll be back later!" he promised vaguely.

Gibbs nodded, his mind elsewhere…wondering how much time he had spent in the hospital; judging by the stubble on his face, a couple of days at least. Hopefully he still had time to stop Tony from leaving.

Fornell saw no insult in Gibbs' silence, it was their way after all. He gathered his coat and left quietly. Gibbs was asleep before the door had even closed.

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_**There you go, another chapter is up. Let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up – how will the team handle working an active case with Tony leading them? Will Vance interfere? Fornell goes to see if Tony wants to turn to **__**'the dark side'**__** and my OC Simmons makes another appearance.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Huge thanks to everyone reviewed and alerted.**_

_**Sorry about the slight delay, been busier than I thought I would be.**_

_**Tony is leading an active case and comes across a familiar face. Gibbs is slowly getting stronger but can he get through to Tony from his hospital bed?**_

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Tony walked down to autopsy, coffee in hand. He had called in all the team; Ziva and McGee were phoning round the local bases and seeing if anyone was AWOL. Ducky was doing the autopsy; he had decided to let his young assistant forego the early morning wake-up and was working alone, babbling away to the unknown body that lay on the autopsy table. Abby was doing trace on the uniform and running fingerprints and DNA.

As he neared the automatic doors that lead into autopsy Tony heard the running monologue and smiled; good old Ducky…what would life be like without him?

"…and of course she was rather stigmatised for it; after all that sort of thing was far from acceptable back then…"

"Ducky?" Tony interrupted, "You got anything for me?"

"Ah Anthony, I'm not quite finished with our young friend here, but I can, however, provide a possible preliminary COD. Do you see this mark here?" Ducky pointed to a small dot of discoloured skin in the crook of the sailor's arm. "It seems our young friend was injected with something; I've sent a blood sample up to Abby. The obvious bruising on his wrists suggests that someone held him down to inject him. Other than that I've so far not come across any other signs of trauma."

"Thanks Ducky, I'll go see what Abby's turned up; we need a name cos otherwise there isn't a whole load to work off."

"Of course; I'll come and find you once I've finished the autopsy and compiled my notes."

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When he had gone to autopsy earlier he knew that Ducky was in due to the constant monologue coming from the mortician. Similarly, heading to the lab he knew Abby was in due to the very loud, very heavy death metal sound pouring out from underneath the doors.

Her back was to him as she was scanning through various photographic databases. He placed the Caff-Pow down next to her; when she saw her life-line she gave a small squeal of joy and turned around to hug her knight.

"Tony!" she cried with delight. "I haven't found our mystery man yet, but I've got his prints running and I've put his face into the photographic recognition software as well as putting his DNA through both the criminal and military systems, but cos we don't know where he's from it could all take a while cos we've got to search _**everything**_! I couldn't find anything on the uniform that identified him as belonging to a specific regiment; no insignias, not even anything to depict rank. There's a whole load of water damage…which could account for this, but it's more likely that someone removed them, trying to make identifying him harder…"

"Abby" Tony interrupted and handed her the Caff-Pow, "Breathe!"

Abby obeyed and then took a long drink of pure caffeine. A _'beep'_ brought her swinging round to one of her many machines. "Aha!" she went over to the computer and tapped away. "The mystery substance in his blood is…potassium chloride! _**Nasty!**_"

"Potassium Chloride? Isn't that what they use in lethal injections? It stops the heart right?"

"Yeah, literally stops it. If he'd been given a smaller dose Ducky would probably have found all sorts of hinky things in the body, like bleeding in the guy's digestive tract, but the dose this guy received…_phew_…he won't have suffered long!"

"Is it easy to get a hold of?"

"Well, there are several different medical uses, but it can also be used alongside a whole load of industrial products, like fertilisers, or completion fluids in fuels."

"So not too difficult if you know where to look" Tony surmised. "Great…so that doesn't really get us anywhere. Thanks Abs, let me know when you get something else." With that he turned to go, but Abby grabbed his arm and stopped him. He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for an explanation.

"By now, you'd _think_ you would know not to underestimate me." She smiled and gestured towards her computer screen, where more results waited to be shared; there was a list of various chemicals that were found on the uniform, the water unable to destroy all trace.

"…And for those of us who only got a Phys Ed Major?"

"Looks to be White Spirit and WD40…pretty standard things in your average household garage; but the large amounts _could_ mean that you're looking for someone involved with mechanics, or that your initial crime scene is at a garage or something."

Tony kissed her on the head. "Thanks Abs, you're amazing."

"I know" Abby waved him off dismissively.

"Let me know the minute you find an ID."

Abby went back to dancing around her lab between the various machines, waiting for her babies to come through for her and provide a name to the body downstairs. She turned the music up.

_**

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**_

Both Ziva and McGee were glad to see Tony smiling when he got off the elevator; maybe he would be back to his usual jovial self. The bullpen had been quiet but efficient…and neither one of them liked it! So far they had no leads and had spent the day phoning around looking for missing sailors. It was slow work and very boring; they had never truly appreciated how much Tony's behaviour and his bizarre antics helped to pass the time and ease the tension.

Tony filled them in on Abby's and Ducky's findings and the disappointing fact that unfortunately they still lacked an ID. Ziva and McGee had expanded their search and were phoning around bases in neighbouring states and gathering photographs of all those who were AWOL, trying to match them to the DB downstairs. Tony was phoning around the local LEO's seeing if there were any garages or aircraft hangers reporting disturbances…desperate to find the crime scene.

Calls were still being made when Abby came bounding up the stairs with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Tony!" she squealed, "I know who our mystery man is!" she sing-songed. She handed him the paper and carried on to a computer to upload information to the big screen. "Say hello to Ensign Robert Spry, out of…wait for it…Naval Base San Diego. Bob is a _**long**_ way from home."

"That's excellent, thanks Abs. What do you know about him so far?"

"He was due to report in at NBSD just under four weeks ago and was _supposed_ to be aboard the _USS Sampson_ two weeks ago; it's shipped out and is currently heading towards the Persian Gulf. He's listed as AWOL. The ship's Commanding Officer is Philip Roos, but his immediate CO is Captain McKendrick. His military record is spotless; _apparently_ he is the model sailor!"

"Ok, good job Abs, I owe you a Caff-Pow. Ziva, McGee…see what else you can find out. I want a list of names; his bunk-mates, his duty-mates…anyone he ever went on leave with. I'm off to MTAC; I want to talk to his CO."

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Abby had left her tests running and gone to the hospital to see how her favourite silver-fox was doing. She found Gibbs with his bed slightly raised at the head, watching the nurse fidget with his IV's; he was glaring at her.

"What's wrong Boss-Man; she refusing to spike your IV with Bourbon?"

The nurse gave Abby a long-suffering smile and left the room, ignoring the glaring eyes that were burning a hole in her back.

"She wouldn't remove it!"

Gibbs, the most feared NCIS Agent out of DC, was _**sulking!**_ Abby had to try her hardest to stop herself from laughing out loud, although judging from the look on Gibbs' face she had failed. "Remove what?" She knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

"This damn tube!" he gestured downwards with his left hand. He saw Abby raise a hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to hide her smile.

"Well…" Gibbs wasn't fooled by her innocent expression and he waited for her witticism; he wasn't disappointed. "…at least you don't need to carry on getting up and going to the toilet."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, but he gave up the argument…for now! He fell back into his pillow and even that small, soft movement had caused him discomfort; he was certain that if it wasn't for the painkillers being pumped directly into his body he would have emitted a painful groan rather than a quick gasp for air.

Abby settled herself down on the chair as she had done so many times now. Her Boss-Man was looking better; he still had far too much in the way of tubing but his complexion was back to normal and he was breathing on his own.

"How's Tony doing?"

Abby didn't really know what to say; she wanted Gibbs to get better and if he spent all his time worrying about Tony he would surely ignore his own health. "He's doing really well; Vance is letting him run an active case, so he's happy cos he's not stuck behind a desk anymore."

Gibbs knew she was avoiding the question; _'I'll let her'_ he thought. He knows his Senior Field Agent too well; Tony would visit him in hospital even if it was the last thing he wanted to do, the man's sense of responsibility to his team was too deeply ingrained. So Gibbs was prepared to wait, but when Tony _did_ come they were going to have some serious words!

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Tony had just finished in MTAC and was heading back to the bullpen. The CO had nothing bad to say about Ensign Spry; he was a good officer who had the respect of his fellow sailors, he performed his duties quickly and efficiently and he had _never_ failed to report in before. Tony thought that either everyone was blind and missing the fact that Spry was involved in something he shouldn't be, or more likely that Spry stumbled across something by accident and paid the price.

Tony stopped in his tracks. Why was _Fornell_ sitting on his desk? Had the FBI decided that they had something at stake in this investigation?

Both Ziva and McGee were absent; McGee had offered to go and get lunch for everyone from Tony's favourite local deli; a nice peace offering he thought. He didn't know where Ziva was…she was supposed to be working! However, she had been working diligently all day and had treated him with respect, so he'd let it slide.

"DiNozzo" greeted Fornell, with his usual stress on the _'Nozzo'_ part. In some ways it grated that the FBI team leader insisted on calling him _'DiNutso'_ when everyone else, including himself said _'DiNozzo'_ but in all actuality Fornell's pronunciation was closer to the real Italian.

"Fornell" he nodded his greeting. "This is an NCIS case; unquestionably, irrefutably, indisputably, undeniably an NCIS case. So what does the FBI want with it?"

"I'm not here about the case. I heard about Gibbs."

"So…?" He doubted the man was here to offer condolences to the team, it wasn't really Fornell's style. Tony had no idea where this was going and wished the man would get to the point; the man could be almost as infuriating as Gibbs with his closed-mouth tendencies.

Fornell gave a small shrug of his shoulders, giving no real answer.

Vance appeared on the balcony, leaning over the railings. "Agent DiNozzo, I would like to hear how the case is going as soon as you have a moment." With that he turned and headed into MTAC.

Fornell had been watching Tony closely and had caught the mutinous look that had crossed the younger man's face. "Not a fan of the new Director?" he half asked half stated; he was offered no response. "I hear you're looking for a new home."

"I see the scuttlebutt goes straight to the Hoover Building these days, good to know." He gave no real answer, thinking he could be just as vague as Fornell if he wanted to be.

Fornell smiled and decided that the younger man's rising frustration, while amusing, would not help him in his quest. "You want a job with the FBI?" he cut straight to the chase.

Tony wasn't sure what to say. Fornell had vaguely offered him a job before but he had never taken the offer seriously; the FBI agent barely seemed to tolerate him on a good day and he _had_ arrested him for _murder!_

Fornell saw the confusion on the younger man's face and tried to explain, "You can be a goofball DiNozzo, but you're a damn good agent." He handed the Senior Field Agent a card. "Think about it and let me know." With that he pushed himself off the desk and left abruptly for the elevator.

Tony was staring at the card in his hand; he felt like he was stuck in some weird twilight zone…nothing much was making sense about this last week.

Vance had left MTAC and was walking back to his office when he saw DiNozzo stood still down below. He saw the small white piece of card in his hand and guessed what Fornell had been here for. He knew Tony was valued by Gibbs but the FBI agent had never shown any patience with the Senior Field Agent.

Was he underestimating DiNozzo? He firmly believed that the future success of law enforcement lay with technological prowess, which DiNozzo sorely lacked, but Gibbs' team had the highest clearance rate and whether he liked it or not DiNozzo was a crucial member of that team.

"Agent DiNozzo, are you free to give me an update on your case?"

Tony tore his gaze away from the card and nodded. He grabbed some notes off his desk and followed Vance into his office.

_**

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**_

Ziva had answered a call from Ducky and had gone to collect the completed autopsy results for Tony. She had used the stairs as the elevator had been busy. Coming back to the bullpen she had seen Fornell and Tony talking and let her natural curiosity get the better of her.

"…_want a job with the FBI?"_ Ziva reeled back in shock and stepped into the stairwell to recover unseen by fellow agents. She knew that Tony had handed in his resignation, knew he had faced a lot over the past couple of years, longer than that if you counted catching the plague and seeing your partner being shot in the forehead. But to hear Fornell's offer…it drove home just how serious Tony was about his resignation.

She had thought it was a threat…a _strong_ threat, one that said _'look, I've had enough, either start treating me right or I'm off.' _Instead it looked like all he was saying was _'I'm off.'_ She couldn't lose Tony; they were _partners_! Not many people would have followed her back into a warehouse where a bomb was set to blow, trusted her so completely as to sit right next to her _and_ the bomb. He had her six, on and off the clock! She would have to try harder…convince him that he couldn't, _**shouldn't,**_ leave!

She heard Vance's call and waited until Tony was in the Director's office before she returned to her desk, placing the autopsy report on Tony's desk as she went. She dived straight back into the investigation.

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About half an hour later McGee returned with lunch; he had a cream-cheese bagel for Ziva and himself and an Italian pastrami sandwich for Tony, complete with drinks for the three of them. Both Ducky and Jimmy had bought packed-lunches with them and were eating together down in autopsy. Abby had said she was going to grab something at the hospital while visiting Gibbs.

McGee had savoured the opportunity to escape from the office, although not because Tony was being an insufferable team leader like he had feared he would be. Tony was the exact opposite in fact; he had been polite yet demanding, given praise when it had been earned, and had so far refrained from putting super-glue on anyone's keyboards…which was always a bonus!

McGee had been eager to escape the office for the simple reason that he wanted to reflect on these things _alone_. Ziva, the super-secret-agent-spy that she was, picked up on a lot of things…slight nuances in tone and speech and of course body-language; she was a damn human polygraph! Tony wasn't much different, although unfortunately he was more likely to vocalise his findings. He wanted to think about things without being called up on it by Tony or secretly assessed by Ziva.

So far, in this very short period of time investigating the Spry murder Tony, Ziva and himself were working well as a team. They were ignoring the current issue of Tony's looming resignation and were operating smoothly, _'crossing all the t's and dotting the i's' _as they say.

He decided that he actually quite liked being Tony's Senior Field Agent and wished that he had given the man more of a chance the first time they were in this position. He certainly didn't miss the cold sweat that would run down his back when he had to face Gibbs and told them they hadn't found anything helpful. He hated to think how Gibbs would have been earlier that morning when they didn't have a name, a crime scene, a motive or even a regiment!

"Where's Tony?" he asked Ziva, who had yet to look up from her computer.

"Vance wanted a Sit. Rep."

Ziva had not looked up. McGee shrugged and handed out lunch. While he ate he reviewed Ensign Spry's financial records; so far nothing was out of the ordinary.

The _'ding'_ of the elevator brought both team-mates looking over towards it, expecting to see their acting team-lead. However, both were met with a face that they had never seen before. The man was almost 6ft tall and well-built; mid-fifties with greying hair. McGee judged him to be a cop, Ziva's first thought was former military.

The man sent his piercing green eyes across the bullpen, looking for someone he obviously didn't find. He caught the two agents looking at him and walked on over. "Hello, I'm Officer Simmons, I've got a report here for Agent DiNozzo; he around?"

His voice was quiet and respectful, but there was the slightest hint of a dark menacing edge that got Ziva curious. "He is in a meeting with the Director at the moment. He should not be much longer." She saw the smile that tugged at the officer's lips and wondered what he had found amusing about it.

Simmons remembered Tony's words in the car about _'the damn Director!'_ He wondered if things were going any smoother this time around. "I'll wait" he offered and seated himself down at the closest available desk. He saw that it was DiNozzo's; the desk was laden with files, some opened at specific parts most stacked up to one side. There were reports in paper waiting to be sorted and the screen saver was bouncing from one side to the other of the computer screen.

All in all the organised chaos reminded him of the kid he had met just a few days ago now; the one that had been covered in blood with the wild look of a skittish colt in his eyes and the self-doubt that had been internally bombarding him since he saw his boss go down; yet at the same time the man was able to give a precise and coherent statement as well as contact those that he needed to.

He heard footsteps above and saw Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, organised chaos personified, heading down the stairs towards them. He doubted the kid would like what he had to report!

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_**There you go, please let me know what you all think!**_

_**Next up, what has Simmons got to report and will Tony go and see his boss? Will poor Gibbs ever get the urinary catheter removed?**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Huge thanks to everyone reviewed and alerted.**_

_**What news does Simmons bring? Tony **__**finally**__** goes to see Gibbs in the hospital.**_

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Tony's meeting with Vance had gone smoothly; he hadn't even felt the urge to jump over the table and throttle him! Vance seemed happy with the speed of progress in the Spry case and, while NCIS was still awaiting a final report from the local LEO's on the Henderson case, the Director had deemed the three uninjured agents' part in _'the shooting incident'_ as blameless.

Heading back down to his desk, Tony felt some of the tension that had been sitting heavily upon his shoulders ease up a little. Vance, despite not being his number one fan, was being supportive…almost nice! The team were treating him with more respect, and although it grated that they were only giving it to him because of his current position…he'd take it; it was certainly a step up from the continual doubts that plagued the team last time he was in charge.

Tony knew that now Gibbs was awake and off the ventilator he should go and see him; there was a lot of crap going on but Gibbs was the team leader and no matter what, the older man would always be his mentor.

Heading towards the main area of the bullpen he saw that his desk was occupied; he recognised the well-built greying image of Simmons, the officer that had driven him all the way from the farm to the hospital. He briefly puzzled over the officer's presence before realising that he must have finished examining Henderson's farm and completed the autopsy.

NCIS hadn't been too bothered by the fact that the case had gone over to state law; the man's involvement in a cold-case had been proved and the case had been closed. The team had enough to worry about with Gibbs' shooting and more than enough work, new cases and old. However, Tony couldn't understand why Simmons didn't just e-mail his findings…maybe the man was as computer illiterate as his boss.

Simmons got out of the chair and offered his hand, which Tony firmly shook; "Officer Simmons" he greeted. "What can we do for you?"

"I think it is more what _**I**_ can do for _**you**_!" He handed Tony a file he had brought with him. "We did a full search of the barn and found a door to a storm cellar of sorts. The photos can tell you what we found better than I can!"

Tony turned to the photos at the back of the file; they bore a grim discovery. In the middle of the dark, dank cellar was a chair, with bindings on both the arms and legs to secure the unfortunate victim. Parts of the chair were stained with dried blood.

Another photograph captured a nearby table which held several syringes of various shapes and sizes; they had been emptied but they managed to look more sinister for it. There were others tools on the table, instruments of torture that showed clear signs of their uses; the rusty dried blood had not been cleaned from them. One CSI had even noted on the back of one photo that a faint coppery smell had been present, suggesting recent blood-spill.

Tony felt the tension crawl heavily up his back and return to his shoulders; they had thought that Henderson had killed a fellow marine over some stupid drug issue, now it seemed that the situation was much more complex. He thought back to the victim, a Petty Officer recently returned from the Persian Gulf; there were no signs of torture on the body. COD had been rapid exsanguination caused by a skilled cut to the carotid artery; messy but very efficient.

"Damn it!" he swore softly.

"That's pretty much a censored version of my own reaction."

Tony looked at Simmons and raised an eyebrow in question; "Marine?" he enquired, knowing they tended to have a creative and colourful vocabulary.

Simmons laughed, not at all surprised by the fact that the kid could make him out as former military. "SEAL" he supplied, knowing that he wouldn't have to go into further explanations; the kid was an agent with the **Naval** Criminal Investigative Service after all.

Tony nodded before sagely adding, "Well, I guess I'd better not piss you off then."

Simmons smiled, liking that the young agent in front of him was able to infuse some amusement into the room despite the serious nature of the findings. "So, I know you're gonna want lead on this and that's fine, but I want in on this too. This shit happened on my backdoor…I want to find out what the hell went on in that barn. So you can argue with me all you want, but I am definitely not leaving this case behind." Simmons didn't mean to end with such a sharp tone to his voice but the evidence showed that this torture den had been used recently and no-one had noticed…he wanted to know why.

Tony understood all too well the need to see a case through, and this looked to be one that would affect everyone, gruff Gunnery Sergeants and ex-SEAL's alike. He gave Simmons a wry smile, "Like I said, I'm not gonna piss you off. We'd appreciate the help; looks like there's more than enough work for everyone."

"There certainly is. We've done the autopsy on Henderson; it didn't reveal much. He certainly wasn't the one strapped to the chair; in fact we found some dried blood under his fingernails that wasn't his…did match one of the mystery donors from the cellar though."

"One?"

Simmons knew the kid was asking just how many victims there had been. "Five that we found traces of; the results are being run through the system but it could take a while."

"Fuck!"

Simmons ignored the expletive and carried on with the Cliff-Notes version of his teams' findings. "Other than that, all we got was that Henderson liked a few beers too many; his liver was just about to give in. Tox. Screen came back and showed he liked an assortment of drugs every now and then too, but we couldn't see any track marks so he probably ingested them orally."

"So drugs could still be a linking factor" Tony mused quietly to himself, thinking back on the murder that lead them to Henderson. "Were his fingerprints on the tools?" he gestured to the photograph of the table-load of torture devices.

"They were, but judging from the positioning of them I would say he wasn't the one to use them. I think we're looking for someone else. From what I've read about Henderson, he was a good marine but definitely not the brightest crayon in the box. So we've got the lackey, but I want the master-mind!"

Tony leant against his desk and took a few moments to think things over; "Would you be offended if I asked for the evidence? We've got an excellent forensic expert with a fully stocked lab; she might find something useful."

Simmons wasn't at all insulted, knowing that the state funding for his county would not allow for the same sort of expenditure as the federal funding NCIS was bound to get for their headquarters. "Sounds good to me. I've got to head back, got a loose end to tie up. I'll bring back all the evidence, a whole mess of paperwork and an extra set of hands and we can go through it and decide where to start. That sound good?"

"Sure; we'll dig up the records for the original murder that lead us to Henderson in the first place. See you in a few hours."

Simmons nodded his head to Tony, and headed towards the elevator; _'it should prove to be an interesting case working with this lot' _he thought to himself with amusement.

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Tony had left orders with the rest of the team; Ziva and McGee were printing off copies of the original murder case and going through the file, Ducky was cross-checking his autopsy notes with the tools and drugs found at the scene and Abby was re-examining the evidence from the original murder, again looking for any similarities.

Tony knew that Gibbs would want to be made aware of the dramatic turn their case had taken; a case they thought had been wrapped up with Henderson's body-bag. The Spry case would have to be put on hold for now; the serious nature of the now joint investigation drew first priority. He supposed another conversation with Vance would be needed too.

Tony had always found that hospitals had a sort of organised but slightly chaotic feel to them; Bethesda was no different. There was a calm, kinetic energy down every hallway; nurses performing everyday tasks with precision and dexterity. Doctors were rushing from one patient to the next; from the emergency room to the intensive care unit. Orderlies were pushing gurneys and wheelchairs; transporting patients for MRI scans and x-rays. Patients were shuffling through the corridors, getting what little exercise they could while dragging along their IV's. Visitors were trying to navigate their way through a maze of sterile, white hospital corridors, seeking out their loved ones.

Tony arrived outside of Gibbs' room in the ICU. Peering through the window he saw that his boss appeared to be awake watching some telenovella on the television; he was sure that wasn't Gibbs' idea as the only thing the man watched was the shipping forecast. Tony took a deep breath and entered.

"Hey Boss," he greeted quietly.

Gibbs turned to meet his visitor and felt relief wash over him; he had been worried that Tony would put off visiting him for a little longer, leaving wounds to fester. "DiNozzo" he nodded back and gestured with his uninjured arm for him to sit.

Tony threw a quick glance at the television and then back at Gibbs, eyebrows raised with a clear question in his eyes.

Gibbs could read the barely concealed amusement in those green eyes, but could feel no irritation; those eyes had been without their usual mischievous spark for far too long. "Some nurse thought she would annoy me; she left it on and put the remote out of reach. If you turn the damn thing off I swear to God Tony, I will let you superglue McGee's keyboard again _without_ repercussions." The Mexican soap had turned out to be an omnibus and Gibbs had been subjected to the throes of Latin passion for the past three hours; it was really not his thing!

Tony let a small laugh escape his lips; he got out of his chair and flicked the television off. When he sat back down it was with a heavy sigh, all traces of humour had left his expression.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked, aware that something else was now weighing down on his Senior Field Agent.

"Henderson's barn has a storm cellar, and it seems that he used it as a sort of torture chamber."

Gibbs fell back into his pillow; he hadn't been expecting that! The Henderson case was supposed to be closed; a simple homicide over some drugs. The only complication in the case was that the former marine had brought down a federal agent during the attempted arrest; now things appeared much more complex.

Tony continued, knowing Gibbs would want to know despite his hospitalised state. "From what the local LEO's can tell Henderson wasn't working alone, and there were at least five victims!"

"Has Abby looked at the evidence?"

"It's on its way over, along with a couple of the locals; their boss, Simmons, wanted in and I agreed." Tony paused there, knowing Gibbs' dislike for working alongside anyone who wasn't in his team.

"He any good?" Gibbs was straight to the point as always.

"From what I can tell; former SEAL too, and I didn't really fancy digging a Ka-Bar_*****_ out of my spine for refusing his offer."

Gibbs smiled at that, happy to see the occasional flashes of Tony's sense of humour despite all that he was facing. "Just don't let him take point; it's an NCIS case."

Tony nodded his head, agreeing; "Simmons agreed to follow our lead so long as he got to see the case through to the end."

"_**You**_ lead!" Gibbs emphasised. "How's that going?" He was a little worried about the rest of the team; there was a lot going on and he wasn't there to help solve any of it. He hoped they weren't making things any more difficult for Tony.

"Better than last time" Tony offered with a wry smile.

Gibbs acknowledged the truth behind that comment, but could see the bone-deep exhaustion in the man sat next to him. "You doing ok?" he asked quietly.

"This isn't quite how I imagined the last few days would go."

"Tony!" Gibbs gave a soft reprimand, wanting something more than the flippant answer he received.

"I don't know" Tony softly admitted; he looked down and focused on his hands in order to avoid eye contact with his boss. "A lot has happened, and there's still so much to do; I've got to find a new job, a new place, finish up a whole hell of a lot of paperwork…"

"So you're still set on going then" Gibbs half asked half stated, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Has anything changed? I mean if you could do things over, change things, would you?"

Gibbs thought briefly of Kelly and Shannon. "Tony, there are a whole hell of a lot of things in my life I wish I could change, but _wishing_ for doesn't mean anything."

"It would mean something to me" Tony confessed quietly.

Gibbs took a deep breath and knew that he needed to address some of the issues Tony was thinking about; he only wished he could do it _out_ of his hospital bed. "Tony, when I went to Mexico I was doing what I thought was right for _me_; and I thought that leaving _you_ in charge was good for the _team_; I still believe that was the right thing to do! You won't always be my Senior Field Agent…I mean hell…you've already been offered your own team in Spain. When you have your own team, I _know_ you'll be a damn good leader."

Tony was still looking at his hands, not able to put the man's words together with his actions and make sense of things. "But you came back and just threw my things to the side and you never said anything; in fact…the look you gave me made it very clear I wasn't to say anything either."

Gibbs silently cursed himself; Jenny's words about acknowledging Tony's accomplishments were coming back to haunt him. "I know, but you've known me for eight years Tony, surely by now you know I really _am_ a bastard.

"As for the whole mess with _la Grenouille_, I would do _**anything**_ to change that. Jen had no right to use you like that, and I wish I had been there to stop her. But I don't…I have _never_ thought you were responsible for her death. She died because of her own mistakes and because of her own decisions. I knew her very well Tony, I _trained_ her; and you have to trust me when I say that there was nothing you could have done to save her."

"I should have gone with her" Tony refused to accept Gibbs' absolution.

"She would have evaded you and Ziva eventually. When she made up her mind to do something, she did it, regardless of the consequences of her actions. And she was a good agent!" Gibbs was desperate for Tony to understand that he was not accountable for Jen's decisions; he knew about the drinking and hoped that it had not evolved into something more serious.

Tony finally looked up and into his boss' eyes, searching for any sign of deception. Tony's nature meant that he took his responsibilities seriously and felt his mistakes more than most; he had readily taken on the blame of Shepherd's death because he felt he had failed in his duty. However even after eight years of working together he desperately wanted…no…_**needed**_ Gibbs' approval; Gibbs' opinion mattered more to him than his own father's. To hear that his mentor found him guiltless in the matter lifted his heavy soul just a bit.

No more words were needed on the subject. Gibbs knew that Tony would never completely let go of the guilt he felt over the tragedy in L.A. but he also knew that Tony would feel a little better knowing that others do not blame him. Mexico and his four months of absence had had far-reaching consequences, especially for Tony. Gibbs would never be able to alter that; all he could hope for was that some of his words had seeped through and that Tony realised he was truly valued by his boss.

Gibbs was aware that while some issues had been addressed, it was really up to Tony whether or not they were resolved; the Senior Field Agent had to decide for himself whether or not he could accept what he had heard. Gibbs also knew that there were still many other issues; some of them were to do with him and he would try to fix what he could, but he also knew that Tony needed the reassurances of the _whole_ team.

Tony had been sitting quietly in his chair, mulling things over in his mind; he had sensed no deception in either Gibbs' eyes or the tone of his voice. The Senior Agent was well aware that the younger man would need time to absorb all that he had been told; he just hoped that the message would eventually find a way through to him.

A nurse entered then, and Gibbs glared at her, recognising her as the one who had left the telenovella on simply because he had been asking for the catheter to be removed.

"Hello Jethro, are you in a better mood now?" she asked jovially.

Tony raised his head to the new-comer and caught a quick, conspiratorial wink thrown his way. The nurse, Maya according to her name-tag, was a nurse in her mid-fifties with shoulder-length slightly greying hair. She was short and very petite but her movements were deft and sure.

"I'll be in a better mood once this damn tube is out" grumbled Gibbs.

'_Ah'_ thought Tony, _'that's what the problem is.'_ Like Abby, he tried and failed to hide his amusement at his boss' predicament.

The nurse clucked her tongue and responded as if she were talking to a mulish ten year-old. "You are in no fit state to get out of your bed just yet; until you are that tube will stay put…comprende?"

She carried on about her business, checking his blood pressure, his temperature, the wound dressing. She ignored the mumbled comments coming from the surly man in the bed; the language he learnt as a marine was coming back all too clearly. Her next action caused Tony to laugh out loud; she wacked Gibbs on the back of the head. "Don't use the Lord's name in that manner" she warned. She received a glare for her efforts but it didn't seem to intimidate her in the slightest. Tony however, quietened his laughter once the infamous glare turned his way; he still had to work with the man after all!

"I should go," Tony stood up; "We're going to be pretty busy, but I'll come back and see you when I can." He knew they had a lot to talk about.

Gibbs stopped glaring at the nurse and looked at his Senior Field Agent; Tony still looked exhausted but there seemed to be a little less weight to carry on his shoulders. Gibbs knew there was still a long way to go, but he was grateful he got the opportunity to talk with Tony, and was grateful Tony would be returning despite their heavy case-load.

"Keep me informed" he demanded. "And Tony…you'll do fine; if there are any problems…with Vance, with the locals…anything…you come to me, understood?"

Tony nodded, thankful for the support Gibbs had offered. "Will do." He then turned to the nurse, "Maya, the remote is on the stand." He smiled in response to the glower thrown his way by his Boss and left. Things were still a mess, but at least he knew that Gibbs did not blame him for Jenny's death. His heart felt lighter for their small but emotional talk. Maybe he _could_ lead the team well; maybe he _could_ solve this case. He would do this!

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_**There you go…another chapter. Please let me know what you think. Hope it wasn't too mushy and over-sentimental. I wanted a sincere heart-to-heart but with them both still in character – hope I managed!**_

_*** Ka-Bar is a big, very sharp military knife.**_

_**Next up – the case develops some more twists and the team have to work with the local LEO's to solve it. But do they play well with others?**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted.**_

_**Simmons meets the team. The case continues. Vance rethinks his opinions.**_

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When Simmons came back into the bullpen, he noticed that there were many agents milling around but only two from the team he would be working with. His junior officer was sorting out some security passes for them both, so he leant back against the wall and observed the two agents.

Special Agent McGee was rapidly typing away at his computer, his concentration unwavering, as his fingers rapidly did their work. His desk was neat and orderly; pens and pencils were all in a holder, there was a pile of paperwork stacked neatly to one side; even the notices pinned up on the sidings were crisp and straight. The Junior Field Agent's ready-bag was safely tucked away behind his desk; it was clean, with not a speck of dirt visible.

The agent himself was dressed in a navy-blue suit, with an ironed light-blue button-down shirt and a striped tie. His face was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly combed; despite the bags under his eyes, Agent McGee looked remarkably well-groomed for someone who had been working non-stop with a reduced team.

All in all, Simmons' impression of Agent McGee was one of a well-ordered, efficient Junior Field Agent, who was clearly skilled with technology. Simmons noticed that there were certain stark contrasts with the Senior Field Agent; he was sure that the differences between McGee's orderliness and DiNozzo's organised chaos lead to interesting results.

He shifted his attention to Officer David. She had a clear exotic look about her, although he thought she looked more South American than Israeli. The waves in her hair were hidden in a tight bun. Her clothes were dark and figure-hugging but practical for field-work. Unlike her colleague, Officer David was not spending her time on the computer; she was multi-tasking…flicking through some paper reports whilst on the phone, frustrated with whoever was on the other end.

Her desk was not as neat as Agent McGee's but had far less clutter; Simmons couldn't tell whether this was because she filed things away or that she was simply quicker with her paperwork. He walked over to her desk to announce himself and saw that the draw that held her gun was slightly ajar; constant vigilance from her Mossad training had obviously followed her across the Atlantic.

Ziva gave the police officer a nod and directed him to Tony's desk for a seat. Simmons, who was carrying a large cardboard box and had a rucksack on his back, walked over and settled the box down on top of the paperwork that littered DiNozzo's desk. He took a seat and placed the bag, which was full of evidence, in his lap.

About five minutes later, a young woman exited the elevator and headed over towards Simmons. She was also carrying a box and a rucksack. Because there was no space on Tony's desk she settled the box down on the empty one diagonally across…Gibbs' desk.

Ziva scrutinised the young woman, who was obviously the extra set of hands Simmons had been talking about. She was slim but shapely. She was out of uniform and was dressed in some faded jeans, a t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie. Her trainers were well worn, and a blue scarf was wrapped around her neck. Her slightly wavy, mousy-brown hair was swept back in a loose pony-tail. Her skin was pale but clear, with two rosy cheeks. Her large eyes were grass-green with dark curly lashes. She wore no make-up. Ziva felt a little jealous that someone could look so pretty with zero effort.

The young woman went back towards her boss and handed him a security pass. Simmons stuffed it into his coat pocket. The young officer smirked, leaned forwards and reached into the pocket; she pulled the pass out and clipped it to a breast pocket on the outside of the coat. Simmons glared at her. Ziva noticed the familiarity and wondered if the two officers were more than just colleagues.

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After leaving the hospital, Tony went back to his bridge over the Potomac. He knew that the case needed solving, but he also knew that was more likely to happen if he had a clear head. He gave himself half and hour to sit and think things over.

He had finally accepted the fact that Gibbs did _**not**_ blame him for Jenny's death; he was aware that _he_ would never completely absolve _himself_, but already his boss' words were sinking in and helping to ease the ache in his chest just a little. Things were always slightly easier when there were no pointing fingers.

He pondered over Gibbs' words about Mexico too; _'when I went to Mexico I was doing what I thought was right for __**me**__.'_ Could he really stay pissed at Gibbs for leaving if that was the way he truly felt? Here Tony was, leaving his team because he felt it was the right thing for _**him**_ to do…so he _**couldn't**_ stay pissed off with Gibbs about leaving…not unless he wanted to be a real hypocritical bastard, and that was one of many of his father's traits that Tony strove to avoid. Tony realised that his anger over the _way_ Gibbs returned would be unlikely to ever truly fade; it had hurt like hell and he'd already been burned too many times by people who should have given a damn about him.

He knew now that Gibbs wanted him to stay at NCIS; truth be told he knew that when Gibbs had picked the lock to Vance's office in order to steal his letter of resignation. Now though, he had heard the words straight from the horse's mouth. It was nice to feel wanted…especially by a man like Gibbs who generally tried to pass the image that he never needed anyone or anything…other than his boat and a bottle of bourbon of course.

He knew though, that no words or actions coming from Gibbs (or anyone else for that matter) would change the way he felt about the Grenouille operation; it was something he was going to have to learn to live with. Réné Benoit was dead and Jeanne would never talk to him again. Nothing would ever change those two facts.

The only consequence of that whole fiasco that affected others was that it led to the beginning of the end…it made Tony _**doubt**_! Doubt Gibbs, doubt the Director, doubt his team, but mostly doubt himself. There was a loss of trust between everyone involved…how could that ever be resolved?

Tony sighed, not able to come up with any semblance of an answer. He stood up and stretched; the tenuous tendrils of trust between the team would have to hold through this final case. He straightened himself out and headed back to NCIS, hoping Simmons was back with the evidence.

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Ziva had no-one else to call and wanted to dive into the case files sat waiting in the two boxes but Simmons told her that he would rather wait for the Senior Field Agent before they started. Tony, as acting team leader, would need to sign for the evidence too, and so that could not yet be processed.

"You'll have to excuse my father," said the young woman, who had been silent until then. "He's ex-military and still takes the chain-of-command thing very seriously."

Ziva raised an eyebrow; "Father?"

"Yep" said Simmons; "Officer David, meet my daughter, Deputy Rebecca Simmons. This one here decided to follow in her old man's footsteps; she's doing pretty well too."

"You did not want to join the military then?" Ziva asked, with a small grin. However, her question evoked a melancholy in both officers that she hadn't been expecting nor could she explain; she thought it would be wise to drop the subject for now. Thankfully, the ping of the elevator and the opening doors revealed Tony.

"How is Gibbs?" she asked, not having been able to see him for herself recently.

"He's ok; playing games with the nurses." Tony smiled, remembering the banter between Gibbs and the nurse, Maya; he recalled his boss being on the receiving end of a head-slap and his smile grew wider.

He looked around the room. McGee was typing away quickly at his computer, locked in his own technological world. Ziva was sat at her desk, tapping her pen out of boredom. Simmons was sat at his desk, a rucksack in his arms. The other officer was leaning against Gibbs' desk. She was very pretty, he noticed.

Ziva saw the appraising look Tony gave Rebecca Simmons and tried to hide a smile. "Tony, this is…"

"…Deputy Rebecca Simmons" the young woman interrupted, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Deputy Simmons?" Tony half asked, half stated with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't you just love nepotism" Rebecca said with a wicked grin.

Tony gave a small laugh. He liked her; a pretty woman with a sense of humour…and an ex-SEAL for a father so probably best not to try and take it anywhere then, thought Tony wryly. "Well, shall we get started then?"

Simmons held out a clipboard; "You need to sign for the evidence, then we can get started."

Tony signed his name with a flourish; his chat with Gibbs and the easy-going nature of both of the Simmons had eased his melancholic mood. "We should get the evidence down to Abby as soon as possible and then take the autopsy notes and photos to Ducky; see if he can get anything else from them. Leave the paperwork here for now, we'll find a conference room to spread out in and then we can compare notes." He shook McGee out of his work-reverie and nodded towards the lift.

They walked towards the elevator with everything they needed in hand. Both Ziva and McGee were used to the way Gibbs dealt with local LEO's; a brusque manner and very much a game of follow the leader, which was _**always**_ Gibbs. They were surprised that Tony wasn't adopting Gibbs' method of dealing with members of the law enforcement community who were over-stepping their territory.

Tony was thankful that the local LEO's seemed to be people he could work with. He remembered his days on the force; cases could be shot to hell while the various different jurisdictions argued over who had the lead. He just wanted to solve a case!

_

* * *

_

Vance had been at his usual spot on the balcony, watching as DiNozzo interacted with the local law enforcement officers. He too had expected a Gibbs-type pissing contest and was surprised that the Senior Field Agent seemed so willing to work alongside these officers without the usual show of animosity.

He knew he and DiNozzo didn't see eye-to-eye, but Vance could not honestly deny that the younger man intrigued him. He wanted to know what it was about the man that had Gibbs demanding for his return to the fold. He wanted to understand why Abby, one of Gibbs' most loyal followers, had set a deadline for DiNozzo's return date. He wanted to know what had happened for DiNozzo to have been offered a prime job in Spain and why the younger man had turned it down.

He had read over DiNozzo's personnel file trying to find something to explain why DiNozzo was the way he was; so far he hadn't found anything, but then there was a lot of information that personnel files didn't contain. DiNozzo was a walking contradiction. Vance might frown at the agent's play-boy antics, but DiNozzo never seemed to be late with his paperwork, and often came up with the crucial bit of evidence.

He remembered the piece of card offered to DiNozzo by FBI Agent Fornell. If his agent was wanted so much by both Gibbs and Fornell could he really afford to let DiNozzo go?

There was a lot resting on this case, mused Vance; so much more than catching a torturer and a murderer.

_

* * *

_

Simmons hadn't met Abby and she was honestly not what he was expecting. The three agents were dressed quite smartly; both DiNozzo and McGee in suits and Ziva in chic black trousers and a dark roll-neck jumper.

As they neared the lab Simmons felt the floor vibrate slightly with the beat of the music coming from beyond the doors. He looked at his daughter, who had also raised an eyebrow in question.

Walking through the doors they both saw the back of a woman. The white coat gave off the appearance of a professional who took their job seriously, but the image was shattered by the deafening heavy-metal music, the bobbing head with the pig-tails flicking back and forth in time with the beat, and the boots…the very high-heeled, very big, very black, buckled boots.

DiNozzo turned off her music and she wheeled round with a half-moan of protest. They caught a brief glance of her attire; a short blood-red tartan skirt and a white t-shirt criss-crossed with a spider web design. They also saw patches of skin that held various tattoos of differing shapes and sizes…and a dog-collar?! A _**gothic**_ lab-rat…definitely not what either officer was expecting.

They also were not expecting the way she flung her arms around Tony's neck and kissed him on the cheek. Both officers had been in their small town for many years, and the place was loaded with all sorts of weird and wonderful kooky characters, but this team seemed to hold even weirder folk.

Abby looked over towards the officers. She remembered Tony saying something about the big guy driving him back to DC, so straight away she thought he deserved a chance. Most would have left Tony on the side of the road, but this guy had taken the time to make sure he got back ok. She'd be nice to him, she decided; Gibbs' usual LEO treatment be damned.

The other officer looked to be Tony's type; in fact, the woman had a certain resemblance to Jeanne. She didn't look the same but she had the same sort of features; the same mousy-brown slightly wavy hair, the slim but curvy figure, the piercing eyes…

"Abby, this is Officer Simmons," Tony gestured to the well-built older man, "and this is Deputy Rebecca Simmons" he waved a hand towards the young police officer. "This is Abby Scuito, forensic specialist extraordinaire." Abby smiled at the compliment and shook both proffered hands.

She then spied the bags and guessed that they must hold the much awaited evidence. She held out both hands, one for each bag. "Give" she demanded, in her best authoritative tone. Both bags were handed over. "Ok, now scoot. There's a lot of work to do and I need my lab and my music. I'll come find you when I get something. Of course that might happen faster if I had a Caff-Pow."

Simmons had no idea what a _'Caff-Pow'_ was but evidently DiNozzo did. The Senior Field Agent gave a small laugh and flicked one of Abby's pig-tails. "If I have the time, I promise I will get you one."

_

* * *

_

Their journey to autopsy had no vibrating floors but as they got closer they heard a voice…only _**one**_ voice.

"He talks to himself?" asked Rebecca.

Tony smiled, "Not to himself, no; he talks to the bodies." He saw Rebecca's eyes widen in disbelief. The doors slid open and they were able to hear the content of Ducky's monologue.

"…was really quite foolish, but boys will be boys. Of course they hadn't quite thought things through…the cold always attacks the extremities first, and more often than not people spend so much time worrying about frostbite on their noses and their fingers and toes that they forget that…"

"Ducky" Tony interrupted, guessing where the story was going. He gave a slight wince and subconsciously moved his hand to the front of his trousers, _'frostbite…down there?!' _he shuddered. He shook the thought from his head, made the introductions and outlined what they were hoping from him.

"Well Anthony dear boy, it's not a body," he said looking at the photos and autopsy report, "but it will have to do!"

"I'm sorry Doctor Mallard," Simmons apologised, "but his sister refused a second autopsy; the body hasn't been released yet and if you really want it I can arrange for its delivery."

"That's quite alright Officer Simmons, I know of Doctor Wilkes' reputation' he noted of the Officer's M.E. "This should more than suffice. And please, call me Ducky."

Simmons smiled, "Then please call me Alex." He liked the genial old Brit; Ducky seemed to take his profession seriously and obviously held a deep respect for the dead and ensured they received the right treatment. He had also noticed the almost grandfatherly affection the older man spent on DiNozzo. The Medical Examiner was certainly not old enough to be DiNozzo's grandfather, but the fact that he had someone looking out for him like that brought a smile to Simmons' face.

_

* * *

_

They left Ducky with the files and a cassette recording the county M.E. had made during the autopsy. They headed back to the bullpen, where the team gathered their notes on the cold case and the officers gathered their boxes of paperwork.

McGee saw the pretty young officer lean down to collect her box and he stepped in and offered, stumbling a little on his wording. Rebecca smiled and thanked McGee for his offer but said she could manage.

They settled down in one of the conference rooms and sorted through the paperwork, grouping reports from the cellar into different categories; there was one pile of reports on findings from the tools, another on the biological findings from the chair.

Tony had Ziva and McGee share all their data on the cold-case that had originally led them to the Henderson farm. And in turn they listened to the officers as they listed their findings.

Several hours had passed and it was dark outside. Tony leant back in his chair and stretched. "I'm hungry. We should take a break and eat. What do people want? Chinese? Indian? Mexican?"

Simmons felt his stomach agree to the offer of food. He knew his daughter's vote would be with Chinese, and while he preferred Mexican he could quite happily guzzle down some rice with some crispy duck. "Chinese sounds good to me. I'll help you get the food."

They took orders from everyone and Tony had been made to pinky-promise that a Caff-Pow would be delivered to the lab on their return.

_

* * *

_

Tony walked quietly down the street to the nearby Chinese Takeaway and Simmons walked alongside him, equally as quiet. It had been a long day and they had all been working with their nose to the grindstone.

"So what made your daughter want to be a small-town cop?" Tony asked, interrupting Alex's musings.

"We've always been a small, close-knit family." He gave a small wry chuckle, "Some people would probably consider it very suffocating, but every holiday we get together, try to make at least one meal a week too. After Nate…" he swallowed back the grief that rose every time that name was mentioned.

Tony caught the gesture, heard the melancholy in his voice and saw the pain in his eyes. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder and gave a quick squeeze but he didn't let it linger there; not knowing the man that well he didn't feel particularly comfortable comforting a man over something he knew nothing about.

Alex knew that Tony would be confused. "Nate was my son…"

"…its ok" interrupted Tony, "You don't have to explain." He didn't want to evoke unhappy memories for the man.

"I know," said Simmons with a small but grateful smile. "Nate was my son, my oldest child; he wanted to be just like me. I was _so_ angry when he told me that he'd enlisted in the Corps. I don't regret signing up; I'm _proud_ to have served my country and I've fought alongside some of the finest men I've ever met …but I didn't want that life for my children. They were supposed to have safe jobs, you know, in a bank or something."

Simmons shook his head, trying to forget the arguments he and his son had had back then. "I grew to accept that it was his decision…that I couldn't protect my little boy forever…that he was no longer a _**little boy**_!" Tony smiled at the last part. "I was proud of him; he came back from his first tour of Afghanistan unscathed, physically anyway. His CO always had glowing words for him too; said he was heroic out there, respected his COs, kept his head and watched out for his fellow Marines. You can't get much better praise for a first tour.

"Then he went on his second tour. Nine days before he was set to return their Chinook caught some fire from an RPG team as they were going in to land, to deploy troops for some mountain recon mission. The accompanying Apache managed to destroy the RPG team and the casualties were casevac-ed, but the corpsman couldn't do anything; he was dead before they landed back behind the wire."

"I'm sorry!" Tony knew it sounded trite, but what else could he say.

"When Rebecca told me she was joining the police force I didn't know what to think. It wasn't the military, but it could still be dangerous. Then she told me she would be working with me, at home, and…we work well together, and I can make sure she stays safe. It's the most I can ask for I think."

"What does your wife say about it?" Tony didn't want to pry, but he liked Simmons, and he wanted to know the man he would work his last ever NCIS case with.

"She died, when the children were younger. Cancer."

"Sorry" Tony said again. He knew exactly how trite that sounded, having lost his own mother at a young age.

Simmons saw the grief on DiNozzo's own face and wondered who it was he had lost. He hadn't meant for the conversation to steer in this direction, but he liked Tony and wanted to be honest with him. "Let's get the food and a Caff-Pow. What is a 'Caff-Pow' by the way?"

Tony laughed.

_

* * *

_

They returned, food, drink and the all-important Caff-Pow in hand to find Abby pacing outside their make-shift office, paper in hand.

"Abby?" Tony asked cautiously, certain he didn't want to hear whatever Abby had found out to make her this anxious.

"Tony, thank God you're back." She made a leap towards him, but instead of stealing the Caff-Pow from his clutch as he'd expected, she grabbed his elbow and the she grabbed Simmons' elbow and steered them both into the conference room.

"I've been running the DNA from the chair and the tools against the military database, and three of the five match dead Marines from our cold-cases. And Tony, the DNA sample from one of those needles matches our guy."

"Our guy?" asked Tony, mind mired in confusion. "Who is _'our guy'_ Abby?"

"_**Our**_ guy…Ensign Spry, the DB pulled from the Potomac with the BDU!"

"Oh" Tony was surprised. He expected a case like this to have twists and turns but this…no…he was not expecting this! "Oh" he said again.

_

* * *

_

_**Another chapter done! Let me know what you think.**_

_**I used the military words because, as a former soldier, they would be ingrained in Simmons' mind. **_

_**Some of you will probably not need them, but here are some military translations below for those of you who do…**_

_**A **__**'Chinook'**__** is a twin-engined helicopter with two rotors, one at the front and one at the back. It's popular in the military and is mainly used for transport of both troops and equipment. The Black Hawk has altitude and temperature limitations and so the Chinooks are generally used for the higher mountainous operations.**_

'_**RPG'**__** stands for Rocket Propelled Grenade; it is a hand-held weapon normally used for anti-tank fire. It shoots an unguided explosive. Many were adapted for use as anti-air guns during the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. By time of the US invasion of Afghanistan, Stingers were readily available and had become the anti-air weapon of choice, but RPG's are still being used. Because they are unguided, they are not great with accuracy, which is why they work in teams…a better chance of hitting the target.**_

'_**Casevac'**__** means casualty evacuation from a combat zone.**_

'_**Corpsman'**__** is the word navy personnel use for medic.**_

'_**The Wire'**__** means the base, usually referring to the wire that marks the perimeter. If someone is said to stay 'behind the wire' it means they stay on base; 'beyond the wire,' or 'over the wire' means going off base.**_

_**Next Up – Ziva and McGee clash with the Simmons, and Tony has to act as peacekeeper to try and get the job done. He goes to give Gibbs another quick visit too!**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thanks for all the reviews and alerts.**_

_**Tiredness = Snappishness! There are a few small clashes and Tony has to act as peacemaker. He goes to see Gibbs again.**_

_

* * *

_

_**SEVEN DAYS TO GO**_

After Abby's revelation, the team and both of the Simmons united trying to discover anything to link their recent dead body to the cold case that led them to Henderson's farm in the first place. They had three people to try and connect and after several long, and arduous hours, a few cartons of take-away and a gallon of coffee they were no closer to finding a connection.

The connection between Henderson and the body from the cold case had already been proven, hence the reason for the initial NCIS visit to his farm. However, now they were trying to find a connection between Henderson and Spry, and between Spry and the cold case body, a Petty Officer Anderson.

"This is ridiculous" exclaimed Rebecca, with fire in her eye; "There is absolutely nothing to connect these guys…nothing! They didn't go to school together, they didn't go through training together, they've never served together, and they've never worked on the same base…hell, even on the same coast! Henderson liked blondes, Spry liked brunettes, and as far as I can tell Anderson liked men. Spry played soccer for his high school, Henderson played football and Anderson was a member of his school's track-team. We know all these banal facts and not one of them helps us!"

"Complaining will not help us reveal the truth" said Ziva with an even tone that belied her own frustration.

"I never said it would" replied Rebecca coolly.

"Ok, cool it!" Tony could see the emotions simmering underneath the surface of both women and didn't want it to explode in anyone's face. "We've all been at this a long time; everyone's tired and we could all do with a break." He took a quick glance at his watch; it was almost 2.47 am. "Ok, everyone go home and get some sleep. We'll meet back here at 8.00am, alright?"

Ziva was a little embarrassed that she had let her emotions get the better of her, but she wanted to stay and work the case. However, one look at Tony and she silently acquiesced. The Senior Field Agent looked exhausted; she glanced around the room…they all did! She forgot that while the team had been working on the NCIS case of Spry's death, the police officers had been working just as hard on processing the barn and questioning any potential witnesses in the area.

"You will go home and sleep too, yes?" She gave Tony a hard, assessing look and waited until he nodded his agreement. Once she had ensured that Tony would get a few hours of sleep in, she turned to Rebecca and offered a quiet apology. "I am sorry for being biteish."

Rebecca raised one eyebrow in question at Tony, the need for a translation going unvoiced but clear none the less.

"Snappish" supplied Tony, glad that Ziva had taken the step to apologise.

"Oh" Rebecca turned to Ziva and nodded, "Me too."

Ziva and McGee left the bullpen, desperate to climb into their beds as quickly as possible.

Tony was aware that Ducky had gone home earlier, but he would have to call Abby and demand that she too got some sleep; no-one would survive working this case on caffeine alone…even if it did come in Caff-Pow-sized cups. He saw both officers stand up and then he realised something.

"Where are you two staying? You shouldn't be driving back and forth between your home town and here. I can sort something out for you if you would like."

Simmons smiled, showing his appreciation of Tony's consideration. "Thanks, but we've booked a couple of rooms at a nearby motel to avoid doing just that." He picked up his coat and swung into it. "Now go home and get some sleep kid; you look like hell!"

"Thanks!" Tony laughed. He grabbed his own jacket and headed towards the elevator, dialling Abby as he went.

_

* * *

_

Tony woke up early, determined to see Gibbs before the drama of the case unfolded even more. He entered the ICU to find Gibbs sat up, wide awake, and staring out of the window.

Gibbs turned towards Tony and smiled when he saw the gifts his Senior Field Agent had brought with him; he held out an eager hand.

"Black coffee and a bacon bagel" Gibbs knew before he had even looked into the containers. "Thanks Tony!"

Tony smiled; Gibbs was smelling the coffee and cradling it in his hands while he examined the younger man. The exhaustion was still there, but it wasn't as pronounced as it had been the last time he had seen him. The clothes were clean and Tony had forgone the suit in favour of some jeans and a hoodie – far more casual and a damn good sign of Tony's frame of mind.

He took a sip of coffee. "Things going ok?"

"Are you talking about the psycho-torturer, or Ziva's inter-personal skills?" Tony asked with a sardonic smile.

Gibbs returned the smile; "Both; and you too?"

"We weren't really getting anywhere with the case so I sent everyone home for the night; I'm hoping that little cat-nap will have refreshed everyone's eyes and calmed everyone's tempers."

"And you?" Gibbs prompted again.

Tony shrugged. "Still tired, and fed up; we can't seem to find any links between all the players…except for Henderson and Anderson which we'd already established. Hopefully we'll have more luck today."

Gibbs nodded; he knew that sometimes fresh eyes were all that was needed to break a case. He hoped this was the case here. "The local LEO's behaving?"

Tony smiled, well aware of Gibbs' dislike of sharing jurisdiction. "They're fine; they're behaving themselves, don't worry! I think you'd like them, especially Alex. He's got that whole no-nonsense vibe going on too" Tony ended cheekily. "So, you got that tube out yet?"

"Keep it up DiNozzo…I could always slip McGee your superglue and hide the solvent!" Gibbs was enjoying the banter, glad to see his agent was happy enough to trade barbs with him.

They talked for another few minutes while Gibbs drank his coffee and finished his bagel, chatting about nothing of relevance but enjoying the conversation nevertheless.

Tony glanced at his watch and stood up, collecting the empty containers as he did so. "Right, I've got to go…not all of us can sleep the day away. I'll be back when I can. The nurses find out about your supplier" he said, indicating the empty coffee cup and the bagel wrapper in his hands, "Then the supplies will cease!" he warned.

Gibbs smiled and sank back down into the mattress with a small wince; movement still pulled on his wound. He was glad to see that Tony's spirit seemed to have been lifted; he wasn't sure of the source, but he was grateful none the less.

_

* * *

_

When Tony walked into the bullpen he saw that Ziva's bag was already behind her desk. He headed to the conference room they had been using the day before. Ziva was sitting at the table, comparing Spry's autopsy results to the instruments of torture in the photos.

Ziva nodded her greetings to Tony, glad to see that the bags under his eyes had lost some of their darkness. "They had all of these instruments to torture people with but they did not use them on Spry; only one simple, fatal injection. I can only think of one reason for it." She looked at Tony, wanting to know if her team leader was interested in her theories.

Tony sat down opposite Ziva so that they could see each other clearly. He was glad that Ziva had been thinking this issue through. Being a Mossad Officer, Ziva was likely trained in understanding chemical torture in a way they clearly glossed over on at the police academy. "Hit me with it" he said, not sure whether the answer would help the case at all but praying to God that it did.

"They did not need anything from him; they just needed to kill him. Potassium Chloride is a clean and effective way of doing that. It was only by chance that we happened across Henderson's barn. After all, if he had been in the house we would have arrested him and taken him in; we already had the evidence linking him to Anderson's death."

Tony nodded his head along to Ziva's explanation; it made sense. There was only one issue; "Abby said that Spry's uniform had traces of WD40 and White Spirit…things you'd find in a mechanics shop or something. I talked with Simmons last night and he said that nothing like that had been found in the storm cellar. The place was practically empty except for the chair and the table full of the Jigsaw Killer's funhouse tools! So where was he to get those traces on his uniform?"

Ziva paused, thinking the information through. During this silence McGee entered the conference room and stumbled out an apology about his tardiness.

"Probie" said Tony, with one raised eyebrow and barely concealed humour; "You're 10 minutes early!"

"Am I?" asked McGee, bewildered. He looked at his watch and saw that he was indeed 10 minutes early. "Oh…it's just that you're both here and already working…I thought…" he left his sentence hanging.

"It's ok McGee. Go get yourself a coffee and meet us back here. We'll wait until the Simmons' are here before we start up again."

McGee nodded his thanks, grateful for the chance to collect himself. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"A black coffee, thank you McGee" said Ziva with a small smile before she turned her attention back to the photos.

"A cappuccino would be great, thanks Tim."

McGee silently rejoiced over the _'Tim'_ and the smile he had managed to bring onto Tony's face. He felt Tony was doing a good job as team lead, treating everyone, even the local LEO's, with respect. He liked that he didn't feel as nervous around the Senior Field Agent as did when he was around Gibbs.

Gibbs was a damn good agent, but when they had little to no information, the man's temper could get the worst of him. Tony could lose his temper, but it took a lot more than a dead end in a case. He'd rather take Tony's low, menacing voice over Gibbs' low, menacing voice, constant glares and never-ending head-slaps during a difficult case.

McGee paused in his thought…was he _**liking**_ Tony as team leader? Yes…he realised…he did. _'Why the hell didn't I give him a chance last time? Things could have run so much more smoothly!'_ Tim silently lamented. Oh well…now was his chance to prove to Tony that he could work under him without it being an issue.

_

* * *

_

Both Alex and Rebecca arrived in the conference room almost 5 minutes late. "Excuse the late arrival" said Alex, a smile playing on his lips; "Some people can't take a five-minute shower."

Rebecca ignored her father and set a bag of Danish Pastries down on the table for everyone to share.

The team happily munched down the pastries and talked over Ziva's theory and other issues that had been bothering them over their short night's rest.

"Well," said Alex hesitantly, "It sounds like we don't really need to connect Spry to Henderson. I mean, there doesn't appear to _**be**_ any connections, no motive, no torture…and we did hypothesise that someone _**else**_ did the torturing. Maybe that _**someone**_ is linked to Spry!"

"Makes sense" Tony mused. "Of course…it doesn't get us anywhere but hey…!"

"We could go over people of interest in Spry's case, see if any of them live locally" suggested McGee.

"Yes" agreed Ziva; "The base of operations is the barn. We know that Henderson lived in the house nearby, but there was no evidence of anyone else living there. Perhaps his partner has another place to stay when he or she comes to Washington."

Tony thought it over and could find no fault with the logic. "Ok, lets look into it. Good job McGee, Ziva!"

Both the Junior Field Agent and the Mossad Officer secretly revelled in the praise from Tony. McGee was used to Gibbs' sparing use of words, especially with regards to praise. Tony seemed to offer a more balanced view; offering praise when earned, not just when he felt like it. Equally, he gave out harsh words of reprimand if rash or misjudged actions merited it.

Ziva, like McGee, was used to the more taciturn approach to praise-giving from Gibbs. However, when she worked Mossad operations she was used to her actions going without any form of praise or even recognition, from her father or the Israeli civilians. She wasn't lying when she said that she _**did**_ respect Tony, and receiving praise from someone you respect always means more.

The team spent another few hours glossing over case-file notes. They had moved beyond simple POI and were now looking at all names they could find in relation to Spry and checking for people with accommodation in or near DC and the crime scene, or people with family in the area.

"Bingo!" cried out Rebecca with relief, happy to have found something. "We have a Mark Adams; he went to high school with Spry. He isn't army though; he worked the docks in San Diego, and now he works out of Norfolk."

"Adams?" questioned Alex.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows with concern. "You know him?"

"There's a Caleb Adams; owns one of the neighbouring farms to Henderson's property; I don't know if their any relation. I questioned him, but we didn't have Spry's connection to this mess by then; he didn't seem to know anything, but then the guy is a few screws loose."

Tony turned towards the younger Simmons. "You got a different address to the farm?"

Rebecca nodded eagerly; she was glad that there finally seemed to be a break in the case. "I've got an address right here in DC; Wilmont and Cressington. You know it?"

"Yeah, it's not such a nice neighbourhood. Ziva, go with Rebecca and check this address out. McGee, I'm gonna need you and your computer skills here, checking to see if there is any link between Mark Adams and Caleb Adams. Also, check them both against Henderson, Anderson and Spry. Hopefully we'll find something."

"What are we doing?" asked Alex, before anyone else could voice the question.

"We're going to the farm."

"Which farm? Adams' or Henderson's?"

"We'll go to Henderson's farm first and wait to see if McGee can find any connections before we go waste our time with a guy you've just said is a little nutso!"

Alex smiled, and nodded at his daughter, silently letting her know that the orders were good ones. "Play nice!" he offered with a small, knowing smile. His daughter was a good officer, efficient and by the book; however, she could be a little firecracker when people rubbed her the wrong way, like Officer David had in the early hours of the morning.

He grabbed his coat and followed Tony to the elevator. He liked working with the kid; he just hoped the same could be said for his daughter and Officer David.

_

* * *

_

McGee was a little disappointed to have been left behind, but he knew it made sense. The only other person with any sort of technological knowledge was Abby, and she had a lot of evidence to process.

He settled down and started going through computer file after computer file, searching for a link between all the players in this ever-evolving, dramatic case.

He had been typing away for a good 10 minutes when he felt as though he was being watched. He looked around and saw no-one; looking up, however, and he caught sight of Vance openly watching him.

Once he had been spied, Vance made his way down the stairs and headed over to McGee's desk. "Agent McGee, where is the rest of the team?"

McGee gave the Director a brief synopsis of their findings and their theories so far, and explained where everyone had gone and why he was stuck behind a desk.

"I see you're not too happy with being left behind, but DiNozzo was making good use of his resources; you, with those computer skills you possess, are one of those resources."

McGee nodded, "I know" he said quietly. He had liked being his own boss, but working with cyber crimes had bored him; he liked being in the field...he just wondered whether or not Tony thought he was good enough.

"He does, Agent McGee!" Tim looked up in surprise at the Director; had he said that _**out-loud**_?! "I've read DiNozzo's reviews of your performance."

"Tony reviews my performance?" McGee asked weakly, dreading to think of all the things Tony might have written.

"Of course, as a Senior Field Agent, DiNozzo has to give his opinions on all of the team's performance, including the team leader's. Your early reviews were a little sceptical about your level of confidence at crime scenes and in interviewing suspects, but there has been no mention of that for many years now.

"Don't worry about your position here at NCIS Agent McGee or on this team!" Vance reassured the younger man. He liked McGee, some of it was probably the little techno-geek within himself that had found a kindred spirit; some of it was just because he liked the younger man.

Vance returned to his office, glad that DiNozzo knew when to use the right people for the right jobs. He had read the reviews and so was fully aware that DiNozzo knew just what assets and flaws each team member had, and how to use them appropriately.

McGee felt a little happier knowing that Tony gave him good reviews. He remembered the conversation they shared in the car when Tony told him how nervous he was when he first arrived at NCIS; afraid to question the Marines and nervous of overly aggressive LEO's and gruff former Gunnery Sergeants. Tony was right; he had changed!

_

* * *

_

Ziva and Rebecca had pulled up to the address and knocked; there was no response. They called out, stating their names and occupations; there was no response.

Rebecca suggested talking to the neighbours, finding out when Mark Adams had last been seen by them. Just as she was about to turn to know on a nearby door, she saw Ziva pull out a lockpick.

"What are you doing with that? You can't use it!"

"Of course I can." Ziva gave the lock a quick jimmy, felt the click and moved to grasp the handle, only to be stopped by Rebecca's hand on her arm.

"You can't go in there! We have no warrant and Adams' didn't invite us in. Anything we found would be deemed inadmissible in court." Rebecca couldn't believe this woman; was she really prepared to blow the whole case to smithereens just so that she could satisfy her curiosity?

"We will just take a look," Ziva said, pointedly ignoring the rest of Rebecca's argument. "If everything seems normal then we will not continue to waste our time on a dead end."

Rebecca stared, open-mouthed as Ziva moved quietly into the apartment, gun drawn. With a muttered curse, she threw her anger aside for a moment so that she could back up another LEO. But if the apartment _**was**_ empty, she might just shoot the Israeli in the back.

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Tony and Alex pulled up to Henderson's farm, and the Senior Field Agent wanted to be shown the storm cellar.

As he walked down the steps the smell of rusty copper hit the back of Tony's throat. Dried blood was a smell he had grown to easily recognise throughout his law enforcement career, but still, the walls of this dark, dank cellar were permeated with it.

The chair and the tools had been taken as evidence, but the chairs position was obvious. There were scuff marks on the dusty, dirt-ridden floor. Someone had been strapped to that chair, conscious and they had tried like hell to get away. Between the drugs, the torture instruments, the bindings and the physical strength of at least two men, one a former Marine…the poor bastard never stood a chance!

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_**There you go…another chapter. Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**_

_**POI**__** – Person of Interest.**_

_**Next Chapter – more of the case unravels and Vance goes to talk to Gibbs about Tony.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks for all the reviews and alerts and favourites!**_

_**Happy **__**Bonfire Night**__** to all you **__**Brits**__** for tomorrow…fireworks…yey!**_

_**The case progresses, Vance goes to talk to Gibbs in a last ditch attempt to understand everyone's favourite field agent, and the evidence leads to a dangerous situation for everyone involved.**_

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Tony and Alex were slowly going over the crime scene; Alex was describing everything to Tony as he had originally found it, pointing out smells that had faded and objects that had been removed as evidence. They both worked well together; both Senior Agent and Sheriff moved as one, examining evidence and answering questions before they had even been asked.

Tony was reminded of his early days, working with Gibbs. Back then, after Blackadder had left, it had just been the two of them. Tony wasn't lying to McGee when he said no-one ever called him _'Probie'_ because he had experience, but he did have a lot of military jargon to learn; a Rhode Island Military Academy education could only carry him so far.

Back then, Gibbs would have been crouched down on the floor next to Tony, explaining how he knew that the victim had been murdered by a Marine. He would have explained the Marine's hand-to-hand combat training and the way a soldier would learn to use his Ka-Bar. Tony never had to ask when he didn't understand.

He knew that _he_ was the one to do the teaching _now_, to McGee and Ziva, but sometimes he missed the easy-going rapport that he and his boss once shared. Sometimes that rapport would re-emerge, but its appearance was always too brief.

His quiet musings were interrupted by the shrill ring of his mobile-phone.

"DiNozzo" he answered.

"Agent DiNozzo, its Rebecca Simmons. I got your number off Agent McGee, I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to go around you and I needed to talk to you about Officer David; I'm hoping you can talk some sense into her!"

Tony sighed; he could guess where this was going. Having worked alongside Ziva for several years now, he knew that she had a certain moral flexibility when it came to invading people's homes and their privacy; he also knew that her moral inflexibility, whilst sometimes useful, could endanger the validity of evidence…and _that_ tended to piss off the other LEO's!

"Go on then, I'm listening" he said, trying to hide his fatigue.

"She has just broken into Mark Adam's apartment; I told her not to but she didn't listen." The disapproval in Rebecca's tone was very evident. She adored her job in law enforcement, and knew that certain rules had to be respected so that _no-one_ could place themselves above the law. "She has discovered drug paraphernalia about the place, which may have given us a link to your original cold case, but we can't use any of it because David broke in; no warrant, no invitation!"

Tony resisted banging his head against a wall and attempted to sort through the mess caused by his partner. "Ok, did anyone see you go into the apartment?"

Rebecca furrowed her brows thinking. "I don't think so, no."

"That's something at least. Get her out of there, go back to NCIS and find McGee. Hopefully he has something to tie Adams to the rest of this mess. Then we can get a warrant and bag the evidence."

"Don't suppose you want to provide Officer David with this plan do you?"

Tony suppressed another sigh. "Put her on."

He could hear whispering in the background; _"…can't believe you told him…" "…what else was I supposed to…"_ words all muffled together in hisses of annoyance and anger.

"Tony" came Ziva's voice, laced with barely contained control and fury.

"Ziva, please leave Adams' flat before anyone sees you. Get back to NCIS, see what McGee has found out and then try and get a warrant…please!" He would reprimand her later, when he could get her face-to-face and alone. He had never believed in dressing someone down in front of others if he could avoid it.

"Of course" came the curt response before he heard the dial tone. Thank God he wasn't riding in that car! He turned back to Alex who had obviously heard the phone call and was staring at him, one raised eyebrow, awaiting an explanation.

"The kiddies aren't playing all that well together" he supplied, before turning back to examining the crime scene.

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Abby was taking her well deserved lunch break at the hospital, visiting her favourite silver-haired fox. She was curled up on the chair by Gibbs' bedside enjoying some won ton flavoured noodles while her boss poked and prodded at his barely congealed gloop that passed as hospital food.

Gibbs had been in a good mood; he had enjoyed his early morning visit from Tony, in a large part that was due to the coffee and the bacon bagel…_real_ food! But it was mainly to do with the easy banter between the two; Gibbs had missed that! Then, after the good start to the morning, the nurses had removed the urinary catheter.

Because of the damage he sustained to his lungs, his doctor wanted him moving about to avoid any congestion which could lead to pneumonia. He had to cough a lot to try and shift the build-up of mucus that had occurred while he had been lying flat on his back; it was incredibly painful! Walking about would help ease the congestion, and he wouldn't feel like he was hacking up his lungs when he coughed…which was always a bonus.

Abby's visit had helped to maintain his good mood, although he was a little disappointed that she hadn't brought him some won ton noodles too, especially when he saw what the nurses expected him to eat.

He had asked Abby about Tony, but she had told him that he would have to find out for himself…she was _not_ going to spy for him! The chatter had then turned to the case and the LEO's working alongside the team. Abby was full of praise for both officers working with the team; considering Abby's almost as territorial as he is, the officers couldn't be all bad! Abby, like Tony, also believed that he would get on well with Sheriff Alex Simmons; he would have to meet the guy and find out what all the fuss was about.

Abby was discussing her finds on the torture instruments when there was a sharp rap on the doorframe; Vance was stood tall, waiting for permission to enter. Abby saw the serious expression on the Director's face; with a quick kiss on Gibbs' cheek, she gathered her things and hurried out of the ICU.

"Gibbs" the Director nodded.

"Vance" Gibbs nodded back and with a wave of his uninjured arm, motioned for the Director to enter. "Everything ok?" He couldn't understand why the Director was here; he hoped nothing had happened to the team!

"I need to talk to you."

"Ok" Gibbs added when no more information appeared to be forthcoming. Evidently whatever the Director wanted to talk to him about was going to cost Vance a great deal of emotional effort.

"It's about DiNozzo."

Gibbs could feel himself getting defensive; "He's already resigning, what more do you want?"

Vance held up a hand, wanting the Senior Agent to give him a chance. Once he had the man's silence he carried on. "Agent Fornell offered DiNozzo a job with the FBI." He studied Gibbs' face, looking for a reaction; he couldn't see one.

"I know; Fornell told me he would" Gibbs said simply, wanting to see where the Director was taking this; even his gut couldn't clue him in this time.

"Fornell offered him a job; I'm pretty sure Simmons is considering it. You're desperate to keep him, as is the rest of the team it seems. I've even had other lead agents come up to me and request DiNozzo for themselves stating that just because he's unhappy with your team, it doesn't mean he needs to leave NCIS. He was offered a Rota position in Spain for Christ's sake! I want…no…I _need_ to know if I should refuse his resignation."

Gibbs was shocked. Tony had told him recently about Rota, but it still shocked him to hear how close he had been to losing DiNozzo. He was shocked that this LEO, Simmons, was even _thinking_ about stealing Tony. He was shocked and more than a little pissed off that other team leads were trying to pilfer _his_ Senior Field Agent, even though Gibbs has always been aware that other lead agents have always valued DiNozzo highly. However, what really shocked him was Vance!

Ever since Vance had taken over Jen's position the man had shown barely concealed contempt towards DiNozzo. The man had clearly expressed to any willing to listen that he didn't think DiNozzo was a valuable asset to NCIS. Now…here he was, asking for _Gibbs'_ opinion on DiNozzo. _'Twilight Zone'_ thought Gibbs, _'or really good drugs!'_

"You being serious about this or are you just trying to fuck with me?"

Vance wasn't surprised that Gibbs was suspicious; he was questioning his own sanity too! "I'm being serious. I'm not DiNozzo's biggest fan, I'll admit. I don't like the man but if he's wanted by all these people…" Vance shook his head. He would really rather not embarrass himself in front of Gibbs, but if he wanted to be a good Director he would have to swallow his pride. "If he's wanted by all these people, I am clearly missing something. I am the Director of NCIS; I want the best this Agency can get. If that's DiNozzo…then I need to know."

Gibbs was momentarily stunned. However, after thinking things over he realised that this wasn't actually outside Vance's normal behaviour. Yes, the man hated to be wrong, but he did want to make a name for himself; that could only happen if he made the best of what was available to him. DiNozzo was one of the best.

"In my opinion, Leon, you should fight to keep DiNozzo" Gibbs said respectfully, aware that Tony's future with NCIS lay ultimately with this man. He didn't want to risk any further hostility; he couldn't gamble with Tony's career like that. "He may act like a college frat boy some of the time, but there is no-one I would rather have watching my six. He's a damn good investigator and while his methods can sometimes be a little…unorthodox…he gets the results we need without throwing the case out of the window. I trust him with my life."

"That's not what he thinks" Vance supplied quietly.

"No" Gibbs frowned, "no, he doesn't. He has more insecurities than a high school cheerleader, and I haven't helped things any" he admitted quietly. He then looked up and caught Vance's eyes. "But I do trust him, and I want him on my team Leon. We've worked together for eight years. My team has the highest case-closure rate in the Agency, and that's as much to do with him as me; the rate never fell when I was in Mexico!"

Vance nodded. He had read and re-read DiNozzo's file, hoping to find clues as to why Gibbs was desperate to get the man back from sea. He had seen that Director Morrow valued DiNozzo as an experienced and successful undercover agent and one of the few to stand the test of time working under Gibbs. Director Shepherd had used DiNozzo for her own secret agenda; he felt bad that the Senior Field Agent had been used and abused like that. He also saw that Shepherd was the one to offer him Rota, as well as add several commendations in his file.

The file he read did not seem to equate with the man he knew. DiNozzo seemed to spend more time and effort in his pranks than in the cases. That said he'd yet to see DiNozzo come up empty-handed when Gibbs was expecting an answer. Vance had often wondered how the man got any work done until he came in late one night to retrieve some vital information from his desk.

His wife had been less than impressed with his late night incursion, but he was secretly glad for it. He had seen DiNozzo sat at his desk, working quietly and diligently, without his usual attention-seeking behaviour. It was a revelation. The next day when he came in however, DiNozzo was back to his usual tricks and Vance felt more anger than before. He had seen how the Senior Field Agent _could_ be…how he _should_ be…and yet the man _chose_ to act like an idiot!

He looked at Gibbs, who had been uncharacteristically patient while he had been thinking things through. "You really want him to stay?"

"Yes" Gibbs replied, without even needing to think his answer through.

"He's worth keeping?"

"Yes."

"Will I have a mutiny on my hands if I do nothing?"

Gibbs allowed himself a small smile, imaging Abby's various acts of revenge; "Almost certainly."

Vance gave a quick, sharp nod and rose to his feet. "Very well; I haven't received any official paperwork anyway. Hurry up and get better Gibbs; you've got a Senior Field Agent who needs a serious conversation with his Boss." Vance was well aware that he would never be _'Boss' _to anyone on _'Team Gibbs.'_ The Director left, still contemplating very Special Agent DiNozzo all the way back to HQ.

Gibbs had no time to think things over; no sooner had Vance left, Nurse Maya had returned, demanding that Gibbs take a slow walk with her up and down the corridor. She had brought along a Zimmer-Frame to take some of the strain off his shaky body; Gibbs was not amused!

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McGee had been sat in front of the computer, typing away for several hours now. He was bored. Very, _very_ bored! When he was in cyber crimes, typing away at a computer was all he ever did; he had missed field work something fierce. Now he was back on team Gibbs but still stuck behind a computer.

Tony was out in the field with Sheriff Simmons, Ziva was out in the field with Deputy Simmons, Abby had gone to get herself some lunch on the way to visit Gibbs and Ducky and Jimmy were eating their lunch down in autopsy…something he didn't think he could ever stomach!

McGee's quiet self-pity party was interrupted by his cell-phone. "McGee" he answered, trying to hide his boredom and the misery it created.

"McGee, its DiNozzo. I've just ordered Ziva and Rebecca back to HQ to report in. Gather together what you've got so far and leave it on Ziva's desk. Then go get yourself some lunch. I don't think you want to be there when those two return. Go to Sorrentino's a couple of blocks over and tell the hostess I sent you. I'll meet you there with Alex, we're leaving now." Tony hung up before McGee could argue, even though the Junior Agent felt like doing anything but.

Tim briefly wondered what had happened between the two women to cause the latest fireworks, only to decide that if Tony was giving him orders to retreat then he'd better take them! He quickly printed off his findings so far, dumped them on Ziva's desk and left by the stairs, hoping to avoid any run-ins with angry, gun-carrying LEO's.

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Almost two hours later, a fully sated Tony, Alex and Tim returned to NCIS to be confronted with two angry women, both fully capable of kicking their collective asses.

"Where have you been? We've been here for nearly two hours waiting for…" demanded Ziva forcefully.

Rebecca had pulled her father aside for berating of her own, and was alternating between jabbing Alex in the chest and muttering vague threats quietly into his ear.

Tony held his hand out and motioned for Ziva to stop questioning. He handed her a brown paper bag. "Lunch…for both you _and_ Rebecca. McGee has already told us what he knows; you can eat while you fill us in on the rest."

They made their way to the conference room and once again sat around the table. Tony called up Abby and Ducky who also joined in the round table discussion. All the evidence was coming together and adding up to make one very profitable drugs ring.

Petty Officer Anderson's murder led NCIS to Henderson. Ensign Spry's murder linked into the storm cellar turned torture chamber. Spry had a high school connection with Mark Adams whose Grandfather, Caleb, owned the neighbouring farm to Henderson's. All this added up and connected everyone to each other.

"Mark Adams has a small criminal record for petty theft; he has also managed to evade prison on a misdemeanour drugs charge" Rebecca explained, "but his fingerprints are still in the system…thankfully; one of them matched an unknown print collected from the storm cellar."

"But we do have one or two problems" Ziva added. "Abby has only managed to match one of the blood samples, which places Anderson in the chair at some stage. But she has been unable to match any of the other four blood samples from the cellar and the one that came from underneath Henderson's fingernails. This suggests that they were not military, otherwise they would have been matched in the database, yes?" She waited until Tony nodded his agreement and then finished. "That leaves four blood samples that we haven't been able to match, and four bodies that we have not yet found."

Rebecca explained that the chemical traces that Abby had identified on Spry's uniform had still to be pinpointed, although his death had definitely occurred in the cellar. The bruises on the Ensign's arms suggested that he had been held still while someone else injected him with the fatal dose of Potassium Chloride.

"My colleagues have been scouring every inch of Henderson's land, nearby ditches and woodland and any desolate farm buildings they can find" Rebecca supplied. "But no bodies have turned up in the local area with any wounds that suggest torture; so like Ziva said, there are still at least four bodies hidden somewhere else."

"We are still waiting for a judge to sign off on a warrant for Mark Adams' apartment and for Caleb Adams' farm" Ziva added. "We have two local LEO's waiting outside Adams' apartment looking for any sign of his return, and we have two of Simmons' officers parked near the track that leads up to Caleb Adams' farm."

"We didn't want to risk them disappearing before the warrants came through" Rebecca explained.

Tony still felt like they were missing something big. He'd gone over information on both Henderson's and Adams' and neither one of them seemed like a criminal mastermind. If Caleb Adams really was as crazy as Alex had said he was, then who the hell was behind all of this?

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Almost two hours later, an available judge was found. Judge Mattis was happy that there was enough evidence had been properly collected to support a warrant for both premises. _'Obviously,'_ Tony thought darkly, _'this Judge has never worked with Ziva before!'_ He didn't miss the sideways look Rebecca threw at the Mossad Officer either.

Tony sent Alex, Rebecca and McGee off in one car and forced Ziva to act as passenger rather than driver. He needed to talk to her over her conduct and he didn't want to embarrass her in front of the others.

"Ziva we need to talk about your behaviour earlier" Tony stated gently.

"Why? Because you want to look good for Deputy Simmons?" she sneered.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows, "You know that if that was truly the case I wouldn't be keeping this between just the two of us."

Ziva looked a little trite, "You are right; I am sorry! I am being snappish?!" she looked to Tony to see if she was using the right word this time. She was happy to see him nod.

"Don't worry about it; we're all running on our reserves right now." He didn't want her to beat herself up and he could see that she really was sorry; no-one hated losing control as much as Ziva did.

Ziva nodded her appreciation, aware that Tony tended to forgive those he loves far too easily.

"Ziva, I know that no-one on this team is exactly by the book. Neither Gibbs nor I are too upset when a few rules have to be broken, McGee is perfectly happy hacking into databases he really shouldn't and you and your lockpick are inseparable. But please…_please_…do not do anything like that in front of another person ever again!"

Ziva nodded, "I will try."

"That as good as I'm going to get?"

Ziva just smiled in response.

"Thought so" mused Tony. "Ok…so only break the rules when you really have to or when there is no-one but us to see it…understood?"

"Understood!"

The rest of the journey was spent with the two comparing notes on McGee's behaviour towards Rebecca.

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Both car engines were muted once they had parked outside Caleb Adams' farmhouse. There were three police cruisers parked there too, both awaiting orders from their sheriff. Simmons directed all officers to Tony, stating that it was an NCIS case and that they were to follow DiNozzo's lead.

Tony split the officers up along with his team. He sent McGee and two officers into one of the big barns that rested near the house. Rebecca also took two officers; they were going to search and clear the smaller outhouses. Ziva took two officers and went round the back of the farmhouse, awaiting orders to enter. Tony and Alex took positions on the front porch.

Everyone was in position and Tony was about to knock on the door, hoping for an easy way to settle matters when an old man kicked the front door open.

Caleb Adams was a stooped old man. His white hair was clearly self-maintained if the rather zigzagged hair style was to go by. His clothes were threadbare but otherwise practical farm-wear. His boots had duct-tape covering a hole where water would otherwise seep in. His waxy water-proof jacket was tied together by baler-twine. Hard to believe that this man had inherited a couple of million dollars from his father and had earned almost another one working the vast farmland during his lifetime.

However, Tony's focus was primarily on the shotgun in the old man's hands.

The shotgun was old and worn but definitely well used. He noticed that Caleb wasn't pointing it at anyone, thankfully. However, the man was still holding it with the threat very clear.

Alex made his presence carefully known, hoping that a familiar face might help to calm the situation. "Caleb, it's me, Alex…remember me? You wanted me to look into the cattle-rustling next county over…in case it started up here."

There was a brief flicker of recognition in the old man's eyes. The shotgun's barrel was pointed to the floor. "You found em them? Them rustlers?"

"Not yet, Mr. Adams, we're still looking. But this visit is about something else. Do you know where your grandson is?"

"Mark? Damn idiot that one, just like my fool son!"

Tony remembered reading that Mark's mother had left his shortly after birth and that his father had killed himself; a seven-year old Mark had come home from school to find his father swinging from a tree in the back yard. That was when the young child had moved to live with his grandfather until he filed for emancipation at the age of 16.

"Do you know where Mark is Mr. Adams?" Like Alex, he kept his voice low and respectful, hoping not to anger the man with a 12-bore shotgun.

The old man's eyes narrowed in Tony's direction. "Who are you, wanting to know?"

"I'm Agent DiNozzo, I work with NCIS. Alex and I are working on trying to solve a homicide over at the Henderson's place and we were hoping your son might be able to help us."

The eyes remained narrow but Caleb grunted, appearing to agree with Tony's assessment. "Him and his friend went into the barn bout four hours ago. Damn kid's obsessed with fixing up that heap of junk; thinks he can make that wreckage back into a Mustang."

"A Mustang?" asked Tony, all the while trying to put a plan together.

"A GT350…it's a joke if you ask me. Boy can't even fix a plate of supper, how in the hell can he hope to make a car?!"

Alex gently took Caleb by the arm and steered him back into his house, talking in hushed tomes about Nate and his obsession with a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Once he had Caleb settled in an arm chair and had removed the shotgun from his side he returned to Tony's side.

Tony had recalled all the other teams to meet outside the barn Caleb had indicated. He still insisted that Rebecca's team explore the other buildings as there seemed to be an unknown number of people involved in the crimes. He sent Tim's team to explore the woodland behind the big barn, in case Mark and his mystery friend had already slipped out.

Ziva and her team found a side entrance to the barn and prepared for entry. Tony and Alex took up their positions by the main door.

On Tony's orders both entrances were breached, as light streamed into the barn illuminating two occupants sat on the rusting bonnet of an old car; they both saw the guns and the badges and panicked. They dove behind what cover they could find; Mark started firing blindly in the direction of the LEO's, but his partner was a lot more calm. He too fired upon the agents and officers but he fired with an accuracy and certainty that Adams lacked.

Tony had been laying down suppressing fire, enabling Alex to move to a more secure position. He was just ejecting the empty clip when he saw that Mark had repositioned himself too; Alex was directly in his line of fire. He ran towards Alex and shouted his name, all the while trying to put another clip in his gun.

Alex turned towards Tony when he heard him cry only to see the man bearing down on him. A quick glance to his right showed that Mark Adams was near enough to shoot him even with his pathetic aim; the cacophony of gunfire and the darkness of the barn had hidden the man's movements well. Both Special Agent and Sheriff opened fire. Mark Adams was dead before he even hit the floor.

Tony could see that a bullet had winged Alex; there was a small trickle of blood making its way down the SEAL's arm. There was another man in the barn somewhere.

"David? One down this side…you?!"

There was a brief silence, filled with Tony panicking over another team-member being injured. Suddenly Ziva appeared in his line of sight, a dishevelled looking man in her custody.

"We have one alive. He can tell us the truth, yes?!" she smiled maliciously at the handcuffed man.

He glared back, and would no doubt have said spouted some colourful language, but a lone gun-shot rang out, quickly followed by another one. Two bodies fell to the floor.

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_**There you go; another chapter. Please let me know what you think…thanks!**_

_**The farmer's image is based off a farmer I knew who was really rich but looked as though he didn't have two pennies to rub together. He honestly had duct-tape holding his boots together and baler-twine tying his jacket. (**__**Baler-twine**__** is the string used to hold bales of hay or straw together).**_

_**Also…I know nothing about American Classic Cars…I just typed it into Google and made do with what I found, so sorry if I got anything wrong!**_

_**Next Chapter – who got shot this time? The after-shooting fall-out.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted.**_

_**Next chapter is up. Who gets shot this time? McGee's in danger as the gunman flees into the woods and straight towards Tim and his team.**_

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"Fuck!" cried Tony as he felt metal rip through his skin. He turned towards the shooter's position and readied his gun; before he could pull the trigger he felt another force hit him in the centre of his chest; _'thank God for Kevlar!'_ he thought. He felt the force of the bullet spin him round and knock him down. He was aware that there was more shooting going on around him but he was too busy trying to fight the pain, the shock and the rising bile he felt climbing its way up his throat.

He could vaguely hear Ziva shouting in the background, but the words were lost in the cacophony of gunfire. He tried to open his mouth, shout back that he was fine but when he opened his mouth only a small groan escaped. He tried to focus on breathing and keeping his previous meal in his stomach. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees but didn't have the strength to lift his head and examine his surroundings.

As he was attempting to draw deep breaths, trying to breathe though the pain and ease the thumping in his chest, he felt himself being pushed down into the dirt. He tried to focus his vision on whomever it was that was pinning him while he allowed his adrenaline to take over and give him the energy needed to get the weight off him.

"Tony, calm down" said a gentle voice in his ear. He recognized that voice...

"Alex?"

"Reporting for duty!" The Sheriff said wryly, his body was still covering Tony's forcing him to stay down on the ground. The former SEAL took a brief scan of his surroundings and was happy that they were both out of the line of fire; whoever that shooter was, he was a professional. The hidden shooter was still taking a few shots at Ziva and the officers…_his_ officers!

After ascertaining their safety, Alex looked at the man pinned beneath him; he could see the blood pooling at his side. "Looks like one of those bullets caught you in the side." He ran a gentle hand over the area, trying to judge the damage and blood loss.

"My fucking luck it managed to miss the vest!"

Alex allowed himself a small chuckle at Tony's words. After working along side the man for the past few days he had learnt several facts about the younger man that made his statement irrefutable. After all, the man had been kidnapped, concussed, locked in a shipping container and suffered through the Pneumonic Plague!

"You catch that other bullet thrown this way?"

Tony nodded, "The vest caught that one, but my ribs think it could have done a better job!"

Alex silently cursed. He knew from personal experience that there was only so much damage a Kevlar vest could prevent. Tony might not have a bullet in his chest but the risk of a broken rib and a possible punctured lung was just as dangerous. He was about to further question Tony on his condition when gunfire came from a new position; at first he thought that the shooter might have moved but then he heard his daughter shouting out orders to the police officers with her.

He sent a quiet prayer skywards and turned to fire at the shooter's position. Every time he squeezed the trigger he could feel the pull on the small bullet-wound on his shooting arm. However, adrenaline and the threat on people's lives, on his _daughter's_ life, kept him aiming.

The remaining officers were able to move forward a little at a time while others lay down suppressing fire. When they reached the shooter's last known position, however, they found an empty space and scuff marks leading out into the woods that surrounded the property.

Alex turned to survey the damage and check to see who was wounded. Rebecca was standing near him wrapping a torn bit of her shirt around his injured arm; she was safe but glaring daggers. He was glad to see that while his officers were shaken, they too were unhurt. Ziva was crouched down over the suspect they had arrested only minutes previously; he wasn't moving.

"He was shot in the head; he won't be telling us the truth after all." David's voice was hard and even but as her eyes glanced over towards her team leader, her eyes softened with concern. She made her way over to him only to have him stand up and wave her off.

"He went into the woods?" he asked Alex, fear and apprehension clouding his eyes.

Alex nodded. "Looks that way."

"Shit!" cursed Tony. He picked up his phone and tried to dial McGee only to discover he had no service. He grabbed a radio off one of the nearby officers and asked for the missing team to sign in. There were a few moments silence in which everyone's hearts were thumping so hard against their chests it felt as if their ribs would crack open from the pressure.

"Agent DiNozzo?" came the timid voice of one of the junior officers on McGee's team.

Tony released a huge sigh of relief. "Speaking. Put Agent McGee on please."

"Tony…is everyone ok? We heard gunfire; we've been moving back towards the barn to…"

"No!" interrupted Tony. "McGee, the shooter is headed your way. How far away are you from the barn?"

"I don't know, maybe three minutes now."

"Shit!" Tony cursed off radio. "Ok McGee, stay put in defensive positions. Watch your six McGee; we'll be there as soon as we can."

"Perhaps you should stay here Tony" Ziva suggested gently, worried about the potential for blood loss and shock that moving with a gunshot-wound might cause.

"Ziva, you said you would respect me as team leader…did you mean that?" he asked, searching her eyes for sincerity.

"Of course, but…"

"Then as team leader, we're wasting time. One of my team is in danger and it is my job to go and help him. I know my limits and I can handle this." He looked at his partner and awaited her response.

Ziva knew that Tony was telling the truth, that he might always push his limits in all sorts of ways, but that he knew where they were. She trusted him. She gave a short sharp nod indicating her agreement.

Tony smiled and rested a gentle hand on Ziva's shoulders. "Thanks for the concern though!" He turned around to Rebecca; "Can you and your team stay here with Caleb? We don't want to risk him."

Rebecca looked for a second as though she might argue, but she knew time was short and she knew that Tony was right…they couldn't risk a civilian. She nodded and moved her team away towards the main house.

Tony, Alex, Ziva and the rest of the officers entered the woods and fanned themselves out on DiNozzo's orders. Alex was on point tracking the shooter as he had some experience in this field; everyone else was keeping their eyes on the tree-line searching for both the shooter and the other team.

"Thanks for that Tony" said Alex quietly, as he studied the hurried footprints on the ground.

Tony took his eyes away from the tree-line and looked at Alex briefly before returning to scan the surrounding forest. "For what?" he asked, even though he knew perfectly well what the older man was talking about.

Alex knew that Tony had understood, but felt the need to voice it anyway; "Thanks for leaving Rebecca out of the woods."

"Caleb knows you and your officers…it made sense." Tony denied that his orders were for Alex's piece of mind.

"Sure" Alex replied with a small smile on his face; he knew better. He understood that Tony wasn't looking for praise and that he just wanted to do his job well, but after working alongside him Alex saw the deep-rooted concern that Tony held for other people.

_

* * *

_

McGee had done exactly what Tony had said; he and the two police officers with him knelt down on the ground with each of them watching different sectors, their backs to each other. Their guns were out and aimed into the murky forest that surrounded them. McGee had made sure he was the one facing towards the barn.

Every now and then there would be a break in the clouds and the forest would come alive under the warm glow of the sun. The green became more vibrant and the leaves on the forest floor would become a multi-coloured carpet beneath their feet. Then the clouds would move, cover the sun once more and plunge the forest back into shadows.

McGee was worried. Tony hadn't said whether or not anyone was injured; in fact the Senior Field Agent had flat out ignored his question. He and his team had been fanned-out searching the forest, looking at the ground hoping to spot any sign of recently disturbed earth indicating that someone had passed through recently. Then they heard the gunfire.

His first thought had been to rush back towards the barn guns blazing, but thankfully the more rational part of his brain seized control of his emotions. He knew Tony would haul his ass to the gym and then proceed to kick it if he acted rashly. So he ordered the officers to draw in closer as they slowly moved back towards the barn, alert for any movements in the dark forest that surrounded them.

It had been awful, that agonisingly slow pace; he imagined all the ways in which he would find his team in the barn and none of them were pretty images to hold onto. Then all of a sudden, the gunfire ended. McGee ordered the officers to hold. He brought out his mobile, hoping to get in touch with DiNozzo only to find that he had no service.

"Stupid countryside!" he mumbled.

He was about to ask an officer for one of their radios when he heard Tony's voice. From the shaky way the police officer had answered, he too had been imagining the worst. The relief he had felt hearing that his team was coming to get him was soon replaced with more anxiety.

'_Was it taking too long?' 'Had the shooter found them?' 'Was anyone hurt?'_ These questions and others kept banging through his head. Finally he saw a line of people moving through the trees. A quick check via the radio enabled him to make sure it was Tony and the rest of them. McGee let go of a breath that he wasn't even aware he had been holding.

When both groups met up McGee could see that there had been damage taken. Ziva had blood spatter across her face, but from what he could tell she wasn't actually injured. Alex had a bandage wrapped around his upper right arm. Tony…well Tony looked like hell; he was pale and sweating and every now and then he would gently rub at his chest as is it was bothering him.

McGee almost did a double-take when he took a closer look. He could see the impact a bullet had had; there was a dent in the Kevlar exactly over where the heart lies. _'Thank God for Kevlar!'_ McGee thought silently, unknowingly echoing Tony's earlier thoughts.

Each team gave a small debrief of what each other had seen. Alex was lamenting the fact that the tracks he'd been following had just disappeared. In all likelihood the man they were following had taken the time to cover his tracks, leading Alex to believe that they were dealing with someone who was involved with Special Forces.

"He's good" summarised Alex, "Damn good!"

Several of the LEO's present let out soft curses; the case just kept on mutating!

"Well, at least we know someone else is involved. And given his actions…I would say this is the guy we want. He's got to be the brains of the operation." McGee saw Tony wince as he shifted his weight from one foot to another; he took a hand to his side and when he withdrew the hand there was blood.

"You're hurt!" McGee pointed out needlessly. "Why didn't you stay at the barn?" Panic was beginning to seep into his voice slightly; Tony was hurt and hadn't said anything…why hadn't anyone else noticed?

"It's not too bad Agent McGee" Alex tried to reassure the young agent.

"Not too bad?!" asked McGee incredulously. "You knew he was hurt and you let him come out here anyway?" He cast an angry look at Simmons, but Tony's voice stopped him short.

"Sherriff Simmons did not _'let'_ me do anything. _I'm _team leader Agent McGee, and I deemed myself healthy enough to come looking for one of my agents who could have been in trouble. Is that understood?"

McGee's mouth gaped momentarily like a fish. Several things struck him at once; Tony's use of titles meant that the Senior Field Agent was deadly serious and that he had better pay attention or face the consequences. He also recognised that Tony had risked his own health to come and check on him and make sure he was safe.

McGee felt a brief flash of annoyance that people felt he needed to be protected, but then he realised that it was just Tony's way. After all, the man had tracked down Gibbs when the he had gone off on his own little crusade with Maddie Tyler; Tony had run through a warehouse shooting at armed men as he went and then dived into dirty water at the risk of his damaged lungs to save not one, but two lives.

McGee felt a little warmth run through his body at the thought that Tony had treated him as he had Gibbs…with concern and fierce protectiveness demonstrated by the risk he took with his own health to make sure his Junior Agent was ok.

_

* * *

_

Rebecca had broken the news to Caleb about his grandson's death; he didn't seem too upset by it, but then again, Rebecca wasn't sure how much actually penetrated as the man seemed more than a little detached from reality.

She had insisted on driving both her father and Tony to the hospital. Tony had insisted on going all the way back to DC; he had a doctor at Bethesda that he trusted. Alex quietly assured her that the blood loss was minor and that the stubborn agent would survive the trip back to DC.

Tony left McGee and Ziva with strict instructions on processing the scene and playing nice with the local LEO's. Ziva eventually agreed to the latter after Tony promised her the interrogation of the shooter…when they caught him!

_

* * *

_

Ducky had been called out to collect the bodies. By the time he and Jimmy arrived at the run-down farm Tony, Alex and Rebecca had gone, but both Ziva and McGee were still processing the barn alongside several of Simmons' officers. Tony had called Ducky for his services and the older man had immediately picked up on the pain in Tony's voice. After wrangling two promises out of the younger man, to go and see a doctor and to tell Abby, Ducky was able to focus on his job.

He turned to his assistant and quizzed him as usual, trying to help the young man to learn his profession as well as distract him from worrying about his friend's health. "Well Mr. Palmer, what can you tell me about…"

_

* * *

_

"Hi Brad" said Tony, a slightly sheepish expression on his face.

"Only you, Tony, would demand to see a Respiratory Doctor for a GSW to the lower abdomen. You fail biology at school?"

Tony laughed. He liked the easy banter he shared with Dr. Pitt; it helped him get through the whole Pneumonic Plague fiasco. "Technically I have a chest wound too" he pointed out, "The bastard was nice enough to shoot the Kevlar second time round."

Brad's face briefly flickered with concern before he covered it with another jibe, "Probably didn't want to hear you crying" he supplied.

Alex tried to muffle his laughter at the banter he heard. When he was in the military, taking the piss out of each other was a way to get through the bad times; mockery was second nature, like breathing!

Rebecca however, was not as used to the camaraderie and was a little shocked that a doctor would talk to his patients like that.

"So come on then…off with the shirt, or will you only do that for Nurse Emma?"

Tony let out another laugh, although he quickly regretted it as the intake of breath had strained his damaged ribs. He unbuttoned his shirt and gently tried to ease the shirt off his shoulders; the material was stuck where the blood from the gunshot-wound had dried. With a quick tug he managed to remover the shirt.

"I usually get the money up front you know" he quipped, trying to hide a grimace. His ribs were really aching and the gunshot was beginning to sting as fresh blood escaped again. Brad noticed the pain in Tony's voice and the determination in his eyes not to show it, so he decided to ignore it for now.

Dr. Pitt saw to the bleeding first. "The wound's not too deep and it just grazed your side, no real damage other than the blood loss and a little tear to the muscles there." He asked a nearby nurse for a suture kit, before he turned and addressed Tony again. "I'll clean it and then I'll stitch it, and after that I will check your ribs. Once I am done, you _will_ take it easy and you _will_ take the antibiotics _and_ the pain medication, or I go and talk to your boss."

"Go ahead, he's in a hospital bed though and I can guarantee you if he could walk out of here he would." Tony had a smug grin on his face, glad that Gibbs couldn't come and berate him for misbehaving without appearing hypocritical; he didn't want a head-slap!

"I know he's in a hospital bed, Respiratory Doctor remember?!" Brad wasn't Gibbs doctor, but as a doctor in a specialised field he is made aware of patients with respiratory problems when he is on call in case they need help. "And sorry to piss on your camp fire Tony, but Gibbs is up and walking the corridors of Bethesda; doctor's orders!"

"Damn it!" Tony cursed softly. "Stop laughing Alex!" Tony ordered before swiping blindly at him. He made contact but regretted it immediately. Not only did the movement pull on his wound, but he also managed to catch Alex's right arm, which jarred his injury. "Sorry" breathed Tony through the pain.

He felt a slap at the back of his head and looked up at Brad who met his hardened gaze unflinchingly. "Settle down or I'll sedate you!" he warned. There was silence as Dr. Pitt finished cleaning and stitching the wound. He then gently pressed down over Tony's bruised ribs and listened to breath-sounds with his stethoscope.

"Sounds clear, and I can't feel any breaks in the ribs but they could be fractured. I'm going to send you to x-ray just to make sure." He turned his attention to Alex; "You are sitting down on this bed so I can sort out your injury" he said, gesturing to the bloodied bandage.

"I'm staying here until I know he's ok" Tony insisted firmly.

Alex was touched that Tony cared, but knew that getting his ribs x-rayed and checked was more important. "I'm a big boy Tony; I'm sure I'll manage. Rebecca is here to keep me in line" he joked, gesturing to his daughter who was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. "Who knows, if I'm good maybe I'll get a lollipop!"

Tony frowned and looked as though he was about to argue, then Brad helpfully supplied the name of his boss and his room number and Tony acquiesced.

_

* * *

_

Tony was not impressed when he discovered he was expected to go to x-ray in a wheelchair. He had been supplied with a scrub top to keep him somewhat warm; his shirt was ruined now. The nurse was a male nurse for which he silently cursed Brad; he was making idle chit-chat about how exciting it must be to work as a Federal Agent. Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes; yeah getting shot was _so_ much fun!

They were waiting for an elevator to arrive when Tony heard his name stated with such a disbelieving fashion he wasn't sure if it was meant for him to hear. Then he recognised the voice, the tone, the implications…Gibbs!

"Oh shit!" muttered Tony quietly. Couldn't they have at least given him the drugs before he faced his boss? _'If you have something to do with this Brad, I swear…'_ he thought darkly before turning towards his boss.

Gibbs stood in an old NIS t-shirt and a pair of running trousers. A nurse was at his side, gently mumbling about over-exertion and strain. _'At least I'm not the only one getting lectures'_ Tony thought, smiling inwardly as Maya gently reminded Gibbs that she could at any time reinsert a urinary catheter.

Tony took a deep breath and attempted to prepare himself to face Gibbs. He pasted a fake smile on his lips and gave a little wave, hiding the grimace as both his side and his ribs protested at the movement. "Hey Gibbs" he said with forced cheeriness.

Gibbs eyes took in the scrub top, the wheelchair, and the lines of pain around Tony's eyes. Gibbs' own eyes narrowed in suspicion. Tony gulped. _'Busted'_ thought Gibbs.

_

* * *

_

_**Another chapter done. Please let me know what you think.**_

_**I don't what things are like in America, but here in Britain, mobile phone reception is fine in the cities but ranges from a bit dodgy to none existent in certain areas of the countryside…like the moors and the dales. It's very annoying!**_

_**Next up, Gibbs and Tony have a little chat. McGee and Ziva both go searching for advice from both Gibbs and Ducky as Tony's time at NCIS draws to a close.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and alerted and sent me messages.**_

_**Sorry about the slight delay in getting this chapter posted, but here it is…**_

_**Gibbs finds out what happened to Tony; McGee and Ziva look for advice and Gibbs and Alex finally meet.**_

_

* * *

_

Tony saw Gibbs attempting to march over towards him with as much dignity and authority as his injury would allow, a very stern expression plastered across his face. Knowing what was likely to happen, Tony turned towards the male nurse who was now talking to another nurse by the elevators and asked quietly, "Can we get this over and done with please?"

Gibbs saw Tony talking to the nurse and knew exactly what he was asking, so he picked up the pace. He was silently grateful that he no longer had to use the Zimmer-frame for support; he was sure DiNozzo could have found limitless jokes with that little piece of information. He reached Tony, Maya right behind him with both hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed at her wayward patient.

"What happened?" he demanded, his concern erasing any potential niceties.

"Nothing, I'm fine!" Tony insisted. "Brad's just being over-cautious." The younger man didn't want his boss to worry at the risk of his own health and he certainly didn't relish the idea of receiving any lectures. He would get one off Brad, he would get one off Ducky, he would get one off Abby…

"Shit," he cursed out loud.

Gibbs tried to crouch down beside his Senior Field Agent but the movement hurt his already sensitive chest. Maya grabbed hold of the nape of his neck and lifted his back into a standing position none too gently. Gibbs ignored her.

"You ok DiNozzo?" concern was leaking through into his tone; any ire at not being informed earlier of his agent's condition had melted away.

"No," Tony lamented.

Gibbs was unused to the Senior Field Agent being honest in regards to his well-being;_ 'it must be really bad if he's admitting to pain' _the older man thought. "Tony?" he asked again when no further information seemed to be forthcoming.

"I promised Ducky I'd ring Abby…I don't want to ring Abby!" he looked up at his boss with pleading eyes.

Gibbs was momentarily annoyed that he had been getting himself concerned over nothing; then he imagined the Goth's reaction to this latest development. The past few days had been difficult enough as it was, with Tony's resignation, Gibbs' hospital visit and the invasion of local LEO's; nope…Abby will not be happy!

"Why didn't you call me? Why didn't anyone call me? I'm your next of kin _and_ your boss!"

"Well…actually…you're not my next of kin," the younger agent confessed a little worriedly.

"What!" Gibbs almost shouted in surprise.

"Well when you left to go to Mexico I needed someone else…someone who was going to be nearby if things went south. Ducky told me I couldn't leave it blank and so I put him down. I guess I just never got round to changing it back...never needed to."

Gibbs was momentarily stunned. Tony had removed him as next of kin?! However, given a few seconds to absorb his Senior Field Agent's reasoning he could not deny that it made sense. Tony would have needed someone else as his next of kin in Gibbs' absence and he's glad that their resident medical examiner ensured someone's name would be listed. Gibbs was relieved that it had not been needed during his absence; although he's not sure that he could have handled it if had Tony been injured and he had not found out until much later…maybe too late!

He thought back over Tony's words and saw the expectant look on Tony's face, waiting for a reaction…any reaction from his boss. He remembered Tony saying _'I guess I just never got round to changing it back.' _Did that mean that Tony would…that he _wanted_ to change it back?

Gibbs sighed deeply and instantly regretted it as he felt the pull on his healing lung. "So you gonna explain what the hell happened to you?"

Maya slapped him upside the head, "None of that language from you thank you very much."

Gibbs readily ignored her and turned back to his Senior Field Agent waiting to hear what had happened to bring him to the hospital and put him in a wheelchair.

"I got shot," Tony stated simply, lacking the energy to go into things. Sitting down as he was now Tony had nothing to keep him going; the adrenaline had long since worn off and he'd had no caffeine since the morning.

Gibbs closed his eyes and sent a quick thanks skywards that his agent didn't appear to have been too badly injured. Then he focused his attention back on the man before him. "You get a concussion? Bang your head?"

"No," denied Tony, confused about the random question.

"Good," said the older man, who then proceeded to slap Tony upside the back of the head with his uninjured left arm.

"Hey!" Tony protested. "It's not like I asked for it."

"Sometimes I wonder," Gibbs muttered.

"Sir? Excuse me, but I really do need to get Mr. DiNozzo to x-ray," the Senior Field Agent's nurse meekly stated.

Tony almost flinched at the use of _'sir'_ and could see his boss' eyebrow twitch at it. He was however glad that the nurse had finally realised that he was supposed to have been in x-ray a good few minutes ago.

"And you Jethro need to be in bed; you can't afford to over exert yourself," Maya said firmly, leaving no room fro debate.

Gibbs however had other ideas. He wanted to know the full story about what had happened to Tony. He wanted to go with his agent and make sure he was ok. He looked towards his nurse and saw that Maya would not be swayed. He cursed under his breath…and received another head-slap.

"I've told you before Jethro; do not use the Lord's name in vain!" She then gently but firmly held Gibbs on his upper left arm and steered him back towards his room.

"We'll talk about this later DiNozzo," Gibbs promised over his shoulder.

"Can't wait," the younger agent muttered quietly as he let his head hang down, fatigue taking over.

_

* * *

_

Ziva and McGee had finished processing the scene and were no closer to figuring out who the mystery marksman was. They were driving back to NCIS eager to hand collected evidence over to Abby and find out who had taken shots at them. The car journey was quiet, each agent lost in their own thoughts until McGee broke the silence.

"Tony's really leaving," he stated numbly. "So much has happened these last couple of days I almost forgot about him resigning."

"There are still six days left to change his mind." Ziva, despite the hectic days the team had suffered, had not forgotten about Tony's resignation…try as she might.

"Do you think he will?" Tim asked hopefully. He turned to look at Ziva, who had of course insisted on driving. Her face was set in stone; he wished he could read her. Over the past few days he had been beginning to appreciate Tony and the relationship they shared.

He remembered his conversation in the car with Tony a few days earlier; recalled the way Tony had described him when he was new to NCIS and Gibbs' team. He compared that description to the one Vance painted from Tony's performance reviews of him. He really had changed over the years, and Tony had helped to contribute to that in a positive way.

He had also spent the past few days comparing both Tony and Gibbs as team leaders. Gibbs would always be his boss, but he now realised that Tony was a very capable lead agent. He appreciated Tony's restraint; the Senior Field Agent was working well with the local LEO's…something he didn't think Gibbs to be capable of doing. He had refrained from reaming Ziva out in public and had yet to abuse his position of power in any way.

He remembered when this case first started coming together; they had a body without a name, no crime scene, missing accomplices and four missing, unidentified dead bodies. If Gibbs had been lead then there would have been no place in the DC area that did not hear the shouting.

Gibbs had years of experience and a self-assurance that Tony lacked, but Tony had far more calm and patience and he could relate to people better than Gibbs could. A few years ago and the very thought of working for Tony permanently had depressed him; he would always want to be on _'Team Gibbs.'_ Now, he wasn't sure whether he could ever choose between the two.

Ziva was lost in her own thoughts. How the hell could she keep her partner from leaving? She knew that Tony had been through a rough time with everything mounting up…why did she not try to help him?

She had started to care about Tony more than she knew she should. However, he had been dating Jeanne; despite it starting off as an undercover operation Ziva knows that Tony fell and fell hard for Jeanne…he had loved her as he had never loved anyone.

She had tried to detach herself from the situation attempting to ignore her own slightly bruised heart; however, all she had achieved was creating further distance between her and her partner.

Then there was the mess with Jenny in LA, being sent away to be Agent Afloat by Vance and then that stupid war game. She remembered his anger, how he punched the button on the elevator and paced the small, enclosed space like a caged animal. She could still hear the anger in his words, so strong that his voice almost quavered with rage.

'_It's dinner theatre for an audience of one; when does the curtain go down.'_ That last sentence had been said with such a world-weary, dog-tired, bone-deep hurt that she had not been able to respond as he walked away from her.

"No McGee," she finally answered, "I do not think he will change his mind. I am not sure if he should."

McGee's eyebrows furrowed at that. Ziva didn't think he should stay? He mulled over this briefly before promising himself that he would do anything and everything he could to try and change Tony's mind.

_

* * *

_

Alex entered the room a nurse had indicated and found Tony lying down on a bed, left arm hanging loosely over his eyes. His breathing was deep and even but Alex was almost certain he wasn't asleep. The young man seemed stubborn beyond belief and knowing what he did about the man, he wouldn't be surprised if he was currently battling Morpheus, the Greek God of dreams, with every last ounce of reserve he had.

He knocked lightly on the doorframe to announce his presence and Tony immediately removed his arm and looked at Alex through half-lidded eyes. _'He definitely needs sleep' _Alex thought, taking in the puffy eyes and dark circles.

"How are you doing kid?" he asked.

Tony smiled at the _'kid.'_ He was most certainly not a kid now, but he liked it coming from Alex; anyone else and there would probably be a problem but it sounded right coming from the older man. Simmons uses _'kid'_ in the same way Gibbs would use _'Tony.'_ Gibbs only brought out the Christian name when he was truly concerned or trying to get a point across.

"Surviving," he supplied. "I'm to lie here, quietly and without moving, until the x-rays have been developed and until Brad says I can go. Now he's worrying about blood loss and potential shock…it seems someone let slip how long it was between when I was injured and when he saw me." He said the last sentence while looking at Alex with one eyebrow raised in question, although in reality he knew that he didn't need to ask.

"You're supposed to tell the doctor the truth," Alex shrugged, "Especially when they have a needle in one hand and your skin in the other." He moved into the room and took a seat by the bed. "You might not have lost too much blood but it was enough, and shock is not something you should mess with."

Tony nodded, "Yeah I know; I get the same lecture from Ducky."

"Smart man," Alex supplied.

_

* * *

_

Gibbs had managed to evade Maya who had gone to lend a hand in a short-staffed but very busy ER. He found his way to DiNozzo's room and heard voices coming from inside. He could recognise Tony's voice, slightly gravelly with tiredness and thirst, but he couldn't place the second voice. He heard the stranger talking about Tony's blood loss and guessed him to be one of the LEO's. He could hear the concern in the man's voice as he bantered with Tony and comforted him. _'That should be me by his bedside' _thought Gibbs enviously, as he leant against the wall listening in.

_

* * *

_

"You know there are all these movies with explosions and gunfights and everything but no-one ever goes into shock in them," Tony said, turning to movies as he usually does when he's not sure what else to talk about.

Alex gave a small laugh; Tony and his movies. He had heard more about movies in the few days working with Tony than he had ever dreamed possible; from Sean Connery impersonations to random movie trivia…there didn't seem to be a whole lot about the silver screen that Tony _didn't_ know.

"I'll miss you when this case is over," Alex lamented, knowing how true it was; Tony had become a firm and fast friend. Their personalities nicely complimented each other; there were no petty disagreements or pissing matches and they seemed to be able to understand each other without using words.

"The case isn't over yet Alex…we still have to catch that son of a bitch!" Tony pointed out.

"I know that," the older man stated. "That son of a bitch shot at us…at my daughter. Trust me, I'm not gonna forget about him anytime soon!"

_

* * *

_

'_Daughter?'_ thought Gibbs as he tried to wrack his mind for who that might be and why she was at a gunfight. He vaguely remembered Abby mentioning a female officer…was she the daughter? He cursed the strong drugs that had been pumped through his system; the painkillers and sedatives had really messed with his memory.

He had now identified the stranger's voice as belonging to Alex Simmons, the LEO who had made such a positive impression on both Tony and Abby. Sincerity rang through Simmons' voice when he said that he would miss Tony. The words reminded him of his conversation with Vance; the Director had told him of all the offers that had been put in for Tony by others teams at NCIS and by Fornell. Vance had also mentioned that he suspected the LEO would offer Tony a job.

He knew from the way that Tony talked about the ex-SEAL that he liked the man and respected him. According to Abby, Tony had worked almost solely with Simmons out in the field, so he clearly trusted the Sheriff to watch his six.

Had the man already offered Tony a job and was treating the case as a job interview? Gibbs dared not think that he had already lost Tony; he was determined to keep the man on his team.

He was pulled out of his musings by a not-so-very-subtle cough nearby. He looked up into the eyes of an amused Dr. Pitt who nodded his head into the room by means of an invitation, waving a chart and some x-rays to indicate he had news on Tony's health. Gibbs nodded and followed the doctor into the room.

"Tony, it's nice to see that you _can_ follow orders," Brad quipped. He turned to Gibbs and explained, "I thought I might have to resort to bringing you in to sort him out. That or persuade Emma to ignore her husband and coddle him into doing what I tell him."

Gibbs gave a small smile, acknowledging that Tony was at his most uncooperative when he was stuck in a hospital bed. He turned to briefly examine Tony; once he saw that the younger man was ok he turned his attention to who he assumed was Simmons.

The man was about Gibbs' age, and had dark but greying hair, with grass-green, expressive eyes. He was well built...tall and muscular…the ideal physique for a SEAL he noted. The man, like Tony, was wearing a scrub top and he could see a bandage poking out under the right sleeve. His jeans had patches of blood on them but he didn't know if the blood belonged to Simmons, Tony, or someone else.

Alex noticed the other man examining him; he had never met former Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs before but he assumed this was him. He looked over to Tony, a question in his eyes.

"Alex, this is my boss, Agent Gibbs. Boss, this is Sheriff Simmons."

Gibbs and Alex both nodded, glad to have their assumptions confirmed. Everyone then turned to Brad, who was standing in the door way, watching everyone sizing each other up with poorly concealed amusement.

"Right, down to business," he agreed with the expectant faces. "Agent Gibbs, perhaps you should sit down."

Gibbs glared at him for the suggestion and at Alex who had moved to get another chair. The glare softened slightly when he saw that the man had placed the chair by Tony's bed on the other side. The Sheriff sat down in that one to save Gibbs from any unnecessary movement.

Gibbs sat down and was grateful for the support; he finally understood what Maya meant when she told him that he shouldn't over exert himself.

"Well Tony, you have a fractured rib. The vest stopped the bullet from doing any real damage but you are going to have some pretty deep bruising and heavy breathing is going to hurt. So you need to rest and take it easy; the last thing you need is any undue pressure on your lungs."

Tony shuddered; thinking about the pain and the effort it took to draw in a breath when he was in isolation with the Pneumonic Plague always brought the same reaction.

"I'll be good," he promised.

Brad gave a dismissive _'huh,'_ Alex looked at Tony with one eyebrow raised in doubt and Gibbs looked flat-out incredulous, knowing that while Tony would never go out of his way to ignore his body's needs he certainly wouldn't subject himself to inactivity and pills.

Brad sat down on the end of Tony's bed. "I'm not gonna keep you here cos you're not that badly hurt, but you need to know that with the scarring to your lungs…you will always have to be extra cautious in regards to chest injuries. You can't afford any further damage, so you need to take care of yourself."

Tony nodded his agreement but he wasn't looking at anyone in the room; he was playing with the blanket that lay beneath him.

"Now that shot to your side…"

"You didn't tell me you were shot twice!" Gibbs interrupted.

"I told you I got shot, I didn't say once, twice or otherwise," Tony argued, although he could see that his boss was not impressed with his response. Both Alex and Brad were looking down at the ground trying to hide their smiles.

"Anyway…" Brad continued, "The shot to the side didn't do any major damage and you didn't lose too much blood, but again you'll find it sore to move about until the muscles that the bullet _did_ damage have healed. You need to keep the stitches dry and the wound clean. At the first sign of infection you come and see me!"

"I thought I shouldn't be seeing a Respiratory Doctor for an abdominal wound," the Senior Field Agent grouched back, unhappy that everyone seemed to be ganging up on him.

"He'll look after himself Doctor," Gibbs promised, with a quick, silencing glare thrown Tony's way to pre-empt any protestations.

Alex stood up, "I'm glad you're ok Tony. I should go and find Rebecca. Do you want us to give you a lift back to NCIS?" he questioned.

"Yeah, thanks, I shouldn't be too much longer."

"We'll wait for you in the cafeteria then." He held out a hand for Brad who shook it without hesitation. "Thanks doc."

"It was nice to meet you Alex. Be sure to follow your _own_ set of orders."

"You gave them in front of my daughter; I'll have no choice but to follow them to the letter." He held out his hand to Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally have a face to go with the name."

"Same here," Gibbs offered. If the guy wasn't thinking about stealing his agent he might have got on quite well with the man. From all he'd heard and seen the man sounded dedicated to his job, quiet but with a wry sense of humour and not overly sentimental.

Alex left with a quick nod to Tony and searched for his daughter.

"Well, I should go too. I do have other patients Tony, although I think that being your personal physician would probably be a very lucrative job offer. You really should try to avoid quite so many hospital visits; people are going to talk about our relationship," Brad quipped.

The doctor wrote Tony a prescription for antibiotics as well as one for painkillers that he was quite sure would not be filled. He then repeated his orders about Tony resting and gave a date for Tony to return so that Brad could remove the stitches and check both the wound and his chest. He said goodbye to both agents and left.

Tony sat up on the bed and looked at Gibbs who was still sat firmly in the chair, determined to have the normal post-injury lecture.

"Before you start," the younger man said quietly, "Just remember that you're in a hospital cos you got shot too. At least I wore a vest!" Tony nodded, pleased with his pre-emptive defence.

"I'm not the one in hospital every other week."

"Neither am I!" Tony protested. "Out of the two of us, I'm not the one who got blown up."

"No, you're just the one who caught a disease from the Middle-Ages!"

Tony folded his arms in front of him and looked down at his feet. "I'm fine…can't we just focus on that?!"

"If I hadn't seen you…would you have told me?"

"Is _that_ what's bothering you?"

"I don't know…probably" the older man confessed, tearing away his intensive gaze to stare at _his_ feet. "If you're hurt, you should be able to come to me. You should tell me."

"I would have told you" Tony quietly admitted, he caught the doubt on his boss' face. "But I would probably have waited until I had my walking papers and had a fresh set of clothes."

Gibbs nodded…that did indeed sound like his Senior Field Agent, who never liked to appear weak in front of anyone, especially him.

"So you're not going to kill me?" Tony asked hesitantly once he noticed the fire in his boss' eyes had dimmed some.

"Don't need to…once Abby finds out she'll do it for me" he answered smugly, all too aware of the look of horror that passed over Tony's face. "The sooner you call her the sooner the lecture and then the sooner she takes you home and cooks for you."

Tony's brows furrowed while he thought through the older man's logic; it made sense and he really couldn't be bothered to cook. On the other hand he didn't think that he had the energy to fight off the first wave of the attack either; he'd tell her tomorrow morning…it wasn't serious and it could wait until then. He glanced at his watch; it was just before midnight.

"I'll call. I should send everyone home for some rest too right? I mean I've spent hours hanging round here while the others do the work. Everyone will need a break."

"You too Tony," added the Senior Agent, aware that situations like this were often the cause of the younger man's late night adventures into the bullpen at NCIS. "Remember what the doctor said…rest!"

Tony nodded. "Are you going to be ok?"

Gibbs tilted his head slightly and examined his agent. "Are you?" he countered.

"Yeah," said the younger man, briefly confused as to where the conversation might be going.

"Then I'm good. Go home and get some rest; I'd give everyone a lie-in tomorrow morning. You need to catch this guy but there's no point in even trying when you're all dead on your feet." He knew that the case was taking its toll on all involved and he also knew that the team had been pushed hard before this case had arrived on their desks…before he had been shot by Henderson. He did however want another reason for the late morning start.

Tony agreed to Gibbs' stipulations and left, with a quick goodbye to his boss. He picked up his prescription and headed to the cafeteria to find both the Simmons.

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_**SIX DAYS TO GO**_

It had just passed midnight and Ziva had received the call from Tony telling everyone to go home and take a late morning. However, her mind still cloudy she went and sought Ducky. The older man was there for all members of the team, whether it be some advice, a distracting anecdote or just a shoulder to lean on.

"Ah, hello my dear! I have finished the autopsies on both our young men although obviously you already have the COD. What can I do for you?" He could see the turmoil in Ziva's eyes; for someone who was normally so adept at hiding her true feelings Ducky deduced that whatever was bothering her was of a most serious nature.

"We cannot stop Tony from leaving can we? Anything we do now, it is too little too late, yes?"

Ducky sighed. The hectic schedule of the past few days coupled with Gibbs' shooting meant that once again Tony's issues had to take the back shelf. "My dear, as much as I would love the young man to stay, I would rather fear for his mental health if he did. He has been through the ringer these past couple of years and NCIS, once his home, now holds many unpleasant memories and many mixed feelings."

It was Ziva's turn to sigh. "Is there nothing I can do?" she asked, almost pleading with the Medical Examiner.

"Just talk to him, I suppose. Does he know you feel this strongly about his resignation?"

"I have been unable to talk to him about it much; the case has taken over everything," she lamented.

Ducky was about to talk to her further when his phone rang. To his delight Gibbs was on the other end. As per usual there was no small talk, just a swift demand that the Scotsman come and visit him at the hospital. The Senior Agent hung up and then Ziva's phone rang. She too received the same message.

At first, both were a little worried, had anything happened that they were unaware of? Was someone hurt?

They arrived at Bethesda in no time at all thanks to Ziva's driving skills. They rushed up to Gibbs room, careful to dodge any nurses who might remind them about visiting hours as they hurried through the corridors. They arrived at his room, both slightly breathless, hearts pounding.

Inside, Abby was curled up on the side of Gibbs' bed and McGee was sat down on a chair to one side looking just as confused as both Ducky and Ziva felt.

McGee had been on his way to the hospital to talk to Gibbs and try and find out how he could get Tony to stay when he received a rather curt phone call from his boss demanding his presence.

"Jethro…what is going on? Are you ok?" Ducky asked rather hesitantly.

"Of course I am. Tony's the one who got shot this time."

"WHAT!" cried Abby. "Why the hell did no-one tell me?"

"Erm…well…you see…" McGee stuttered.

"Everyone had their jobs to do and you were busier than any of us," Ziva supplied.

"I don't care…someone should have told me. Tony should have told me!" Abby protested.

"Abby, he's fine," Gibbs said, trying to placate her. "The vest caught the bullet. He told me he was going to tell you, but knowing him he was probably going to wait until tomorrow. However, this isn't about that. We need to find a way to get through to Tony. We've all had individual attempts and they don't appear to have gone anywhere. We need to do…_something_!" Gibbs finished with a shrug. He had no plan…that's why he had called this meeting; he could not lose Tony.

"Actually Jethro," Ducky supplied, "I did rather promise Anthony that I would not interfere and that I would respect his decision."

"Me too," the Goth chimed in.

"WHAT!" the Senior Agent shouted. "Tony wants to leave and you want to _let_ him?" he asked them incredulously.

Ziva and McGee both looked at them in shock too; these were the people that had known Tony the longest…were they really going to sit back and just let him pack his bags?

"It is not a question of _letting _Tony leave, Jethro. He told me that if he stayed he feared he would end up on my table because he would be questioning his orders…questioning whether or not he was being manipulated once again, rather than concentrating on the man with the gun pointed at him. If that is truly the way he feels then I will not say or do _anything_ that compels him to stay!"

The people in the room were shocked, not only at Ducky's uncharacteristic outburst, but at his words. What _could_ they say to that?

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_**There you go, one more chapter completed. Please let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up, Vance will talk to Tony and they make a crucial break in the case. Will the team have figured out a way to help Tony?**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Thanks to all those who reviewed, alerted and messaged me.**_

_**Sorry for the slight delay, have been trying to sort things out before going away. Am off to see Dylan Moran (Bernard Black from **__**'Black Books'**__**) live…yey! Very excited!**_

_**Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed; I wanted to get it out before I left. So please let me know if I've made any glaringly obvious mistakes and I'll fix them when I get back.**_

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No-one spoke. The hospital room had descended into an uncomfortable silence. Everyone was trying to absorb Ducky's words and accept the truth behind them, but denial is a powerful thing; few in the room were prepared to believe that their affable, easy-going, urbane Italian was truly feeling _that_ desperate about his situation.

Gibbs knew that things with his Senior Field Agent were bad…knew that he'd let the younger man down. But did Tony really feel that he couldn't trust him anymore? He remembered the earlier days, when Tony would blindly follow his lead, questioning but always accepting…_trusting_! Did he really think he'd end up on Ducky's autopsy table if he stayed?

McGee couldn't equate the desperation in Ducky's revelation with the man he knew. Tony was always joking, brushing everything off; it was almost impossible to insult the man. Or was it? McGee could recall brief moments when DiNozzo's mask would slip slightly, when the man was not quite quick enough to cover his emotions. The raw pain and vulnerability he glimpsed on those occasions always threw him; then Tony would say something glib or insulting and McGee would forget all about what he saw. Tony really was the master of misdirection but could he really have hidden _this_ from everyone?

Ziva knew from Tony's angry pacing in the lift after the war game that he was angry at being played…beyond pissed off at the manipulation. She could understand why someone would then question future orders; she could appreciate the doubt that would grow in someone's mind after they had been played by someone they thought they could trust. She had grown up in a world of espionage…all of these emotions were not new to her. But Tony…her easy-going partner? It just didn't add up to the man she knew…the man she thought she knew.

Both Abby and Ducky had accepted the fact that Tony had lost confidence in the team, and that the Senior Field Agent feared what consequences that loss of trust might bring about. DiNozzo wasn't just worried about his own safety! He'd told Ducky that someone would get shot while he questioned everything around him; that it was only due to his luck, or lack of it, that it would be him on the autopsy table. But it could be anyone and Tony knew that!

"I can't lose him Duck," Gibbs' quiet voice finally broke the silence. "Tell me what I can do to make him trust me again…please!" he asked almost brokenly.

"That's the problem Jethro," said Ducky ruefully. "You can't _make_ him trust you again; and it's not just about you. He doesn't trust the Director and he thinks that the team doesn't trust _him_."

"Of course we trust him," Ziva added defensively. "He's my partner; I trust him to watch my six." McGee silently agreed.

"There are different kinds of trust Ziva. You trust him to do his job and watch your back; you may trust him as an agent but he feels that you don't trust him as a person.

"His mother died when he was young. His father disowned him at the age of twelve. He was sent to a military academy and lost touch with his school friends. He rarely meets up with his friends from university and when he does, he treats them more as a distraction; people he can forget about his problems with, not people he can talk to about them. He never stayed at any one police department for any significant amount of time.

"This team means everything to him; for Anthony, this team is his family and friends. He's been here for eight years; that's more time than he's ever spent anywhere…military academy, university, Peoria, Philadelphia, Baltimore…what does that tell you?"

No-one offered an answer. Everyone was used to Ducky's verbose nature, but never had they heard a more revealing story spill from his lips.

"For him to be feeling this way Jethro…for him to want to leave the only real comfort he has known…" Ducky left the sentence hanging; there was no need to finish it.

"If we push him," Abby added in quietly, "We might lose him altogether. I'll be sad when he's not here at NCIS anymore, but if he leaves us altogether…if I lose him as a friend…well, I just can't; I can't risk losing him like that!"

"I'm not gonna just give up," Gibbs insisted.

"Good," Ducky supplied, sounding slightly rejuvenated by Gibbs' words. "I think that's the best thing you can do. Like Abby said, don't push him, but let him know what you think, and Jethro, as hard as I know it is for you, let him know how you _feel_."

Gibbs frowned slightly at this. He desperately wanted DiNozzo to stay, but could he really open up to the man? He couldn't be emotionally available for his father or his oldest friends…anyone really…since Shannon and Kelly.

He thought of DiNozzo; when they'd first met in Baltimore, Gibbs was far from impressed with his BPD liaison but as the case progressed he saw what the young man was capable of doing. The two had worked through a gruesome case with few hours of sleep and plenty of tedious paperwork, and DiNozzo had not once complained.

They had worked well together and Gibbs knew that he had to have the animated young man on his team; Blackadder was downright incompetent and no-one else had ever managed to stick around too long.

The young man Italian/American had a drive and a passion for his work that usually faded over time as cops became more jaded by the things they'd seen and the failures of the justice system. DiNozzo hadn't lost that spark…well, until now. And Gibbs knew he held some responsibility for breaking the other man's normally high-spirited nature.

_Yes,_ thought Gibbs, _DiNozzo was definitely worth a little soul-bearing!_

"I'll try," he promised out loud to his team. He then turned to look at Ziva and McGee. "You need to talk to him as well; you're members of the team and people Tony cares about. You had better do everything in your power to convince him to stay!"

Officer David and Agent McGee heard the stern tone behind that last sentence and knew that Gibbs was right; they too had their part to play. Tony was a team-mate, and you're supposed to look after your own; that was something they had failed to remember recently.

Both Ducky and Abby refused to push Tony any further; the Senior Field Agent would need people he could go to, people he knew would not pressure him to do one thing or the other but would listen to him as he unloaded some of his burden.

With everyone understanding that the fight to retain Tony was still on and just what was at stake, they left for their own beds, eager to fit in some decent hours of sleep before their work continued relentlessly the next day. Thank God Tony had decided to let them have a late start.

Gibbs sank back into his own bed, thinking over all that had been said. He was still shocked at Ducky's words and the righteous anger that had filled his old friend's voice. This whole affair seemed to becoming more and more delicate as things progressed. Gibbs let out a deep sigh and winced as the action pulled on his wound.

If Tony _did_ leave, what would it do to the team? The Senior Field Agent was such an integral part of the team that Gibbs wasn't sure it could function without him. Tony didn't understand just how much he meant to people, how much he meant to him!

If they somehow managed to convince Tony to stay, would they ever be able to fully repair their relationships? Would they ever be able to convince him that he _could_ trust them? There were so many issues to fix.

Whatever the outcome there were going to be problems to address and Gibbs had never felt more inadequately prepared to deal with anything.

When he had lost Shannon and Kelly it had been horrific, but he'd had his revenge to help him focus and he had had Mike Franks to keep him from going completely off-script in regards to the rest of his life. People who knew him back then had expected him to change, accepted his anger and his outbursts; there seemed to be no 'wrong' behaviour.

The situation for Tony was different though; there was no script, no precedence about what he should do, what he should say…nothing! He was down the creek without a paddle and well out of his depths.

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Director of NCIS, Leon Vance stepped off the elevator and heard the everyday hum coming from the bullpen below. Looking over the railings he only saw one member of the team with the highest closure rate; DiNozzo was working hard at his desk ignoring the early morning chatter of agents greeting each other and waiting for their various assignments.

He was surprised that DiNozzo had kept his own desk through his role as team leader. The Senior Field Agent had given Sherriff Simmons Gibbs' desk to work from when they were not huddled around one of the conference tables.

Seeing DiNozzo working like this, quietly and without distracting anyone else, never ceased to amaze the Director. The behaviour was in such stark contrast to the childish antics he was used to seeing from the man.

With the possibility of DiNozzo's resignation hanging in the air and the reactions it had caused, Vance had spent the past few days examining the Senior Field Agent. He had read and re-read the man's file, gone over and over his conversation with Gibbs and tried to remember what the bullpen was like without DiNozzo during his time as Agent Afloat.

One thing that had stuck out as soon as DiNozzo returned was that Gibbs was far less like a Grizzly with toothache and a thorn in his foot. When Gibbs had his new team even Vance could see that the dynamic was off; but unfortunately it was necessary. He thought things might improve when Gibbs had his team reformed, although Gibbs adamantly refused to accept his team was reformed until DiNozzo returned.

Ziva and McGee were too often at the receiving end of the man's temper, and his harsh words of reproach could often be heard seeping under his office door in a most unwelcome manner. His infamous short patience seemed almost non-existent and any cases that required co-operation of any degree with local LEO's were almost always headache-inducing for everyone else in the bullpen.

Then DiNozzo returned. Somehow, despite his childish antics and carefully sculptured playboy image, the Senior Field Agent managed to act as a buffer between Gibbs and everyone else.

Tony handled the liaison work with local LEO's, which seemed to save Gibbs a lot of aggravation. If the man's temper was still getting out of hand, Vance noticed that Tony's antics usually went up a notch. Gibbs would direct a few short, sharp and usually very cutting words DiNozzo's way. Tony seemed to absorb the abuse whereas McGee and sometimes even David took things a little more personally.

Vance may not like the man very much, but he can't deny that the man is a team player. For what ever reason, he willing seems to direct Gibbs' anger to focus onto himself, easing any tensions within the team and brushing it all off with a couple of glib words.

Despite the threat of super-glued keyboards and paper-ball fights, tension seemed to be reduced and work seemed to flow much more easily on team Gibbs with DiNozzo's presence.

He called out DiNozzo's name drawing attention to himself; although going by DiNozzo's expression the younger man had been aware of his presence for some time and had chosen to ignore him. It seemed there was no love lost on either side.

"Agent DiNozzo, could you come to my office as soon as you have a moment?" He almost added a please but there was only so much of his pride he could throw to one side in a day.

Tony gave a curt nod in response and turned back to his report of the shootings yesterday. It was the usual paperwork necessary when shots had been fired, in order to make sure agents were fulfilling their duties responsibly and not getting trigger-happy fingers. However, this time there was the added bonus of further paperwork to fill in because law enforcement officials had been shot and injured. He finished his paragraph and headed upstairs.

Vance was sat behind his desk, tapping away at the keyboard at the same sort of speed McGee could type, a speed Tony envied greatly when it came to the never-ending task of paperwork.

"You wanted to see me Director," he said quietly but with some semblance of respect. He couldn't quite work out what The Toothpick might want to see him about now, unless…please let it not be about his official letter of resignation…again! He'd completely forgotten about it in all the excitement of the past few days.

"You still haven't handed in your official letter of resignation, Agent DiNozzo."

_Shit,_ thought Tony. "I'm sorry Sir, the last few days have been pretty hectic and I completely forgot to print off another copy for you. I can go and do that now if you want."

"No, that's ok Agent DiNozzo. To be perfectly honest I'm having doubts about whether or not I should accept it."

"What?" Tony asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"I'm not so sure I should let you go Agent DiNozzo," Vance repeated.

"But…but you hate me!" Tony choked out. "You were _happy_ when you found out I was retiring. It was like Christmas come early for you!" He could not believe Vance was saying this; was the guy purposefully trying to screw with him?

"I don't _hate_ you Agent DiNozzo, I just don't _like_ you."

"Thanks!" Tony muttered.

"Since your resignation was announced rather publicly…"

"By you!" Tony interrupted rather indignantly.

"Since it was announced," Vance continued, ignoring the Senior Field Agent's outburst, "I have had more agents than I would like interrupting my work-day, asking to have you moved to their teams instead. Everyone from MCRT leaders to human resources has requested that you remain here at NCIS and that you might feel better with a change of team-mates."

He could see incomprehension written plainly across Tony's face. The man had clearly not been approached by any of these people from NCIS. Did he really not know how badly people wanted him to stay? Surely he must know how hard Gibbs fought to get him back…right?

"Agent DiNozzo, your behaviour in the bullpen is distracting and unacceptable of an agent, particularly of a Senior Field Agent. You have a clear gap in your knowledge when it comes to technology. You follow Gibbs in bending the rules to your own liking. You flirt with everyone in a skirt. You play on your phone in interrogation. You put super-glue on Agent McGee's keyboard for Christ's sake!"

"Thanks; I can see why you'd want me to stick around," Tony's voice was heavily laced with sarcasm.

The Director, once again, ignored his mutterings. "However, I have yet to see you appear before Gibbs empty-handed, which quite frankly I find hard to believe considering you seem to spend more time and effort on your practical jokes than on your investigation.

"What you lack in technological understanding you make up for in other areas; your investigative skills are well-honed and make you an invaluable member of the team. I've looked at the files Agent DiNozzo, the case-closure rate never dropped when Gibbs went off to Mexico. You managed to maintain the highest case-closure rate in the agency as a new team leader while simultaneously working a long-term undercover operation.

"You play well with others; you're working well with the local LEO's in this case and according to Sherriff Simmons' report your actions might well have saved his life during that fire-fight and he has recommended you for a commendation."

"He did?" Tony was surprised. Surely Alex would have told him he'd done that…wouldn't he? And he hardly deserved a commendation; he'd only shouted out Alex's name. And when the hell did Alex get his report done?

Vance continued on, once again paying no attention to DiNozzo's interruption. "You might goof off more than I would like but I've seen you here at night; you work silently and diligently and get your work done without seeking any praise for your extra effort."

Tony was shaking his head; he didn't know Vance had caught him during one of his late night sessions. Those nights were sometimes the result of a current case that held clues that were relentlessly nagging at the back of his mind. However, those quiet nights also served to distract him from whatever issues he didn't want to face in the solitude of his own flat or in the empty arms of a stranger.

He looked up suddenly, aware that the Director was talking again.

"…may torment both Agent McGee and Officer David frequently, but you also protect them from the majority of Gibbs' infamous wrath." Here Vance paused, shaking his head; he couldn't believe he was praising this man. A few months ago…hell, a few weeks ago, and he could never have imagined fighting to keep DiNozzo as one of his agents.

"Like I said Agent DiNozzo, I don't like you, _but_…you're a damn good Senior Field Agent, and from what I've seen and what I've read, a damn good team lead. Shepherd recommended you for a position at Rota, Spain, as a team leader, and I think now I finally understand why.

"Agent Fornell is not the only FBI Agent to have shown interest in hiring you; their Director seems to think you would make a valuable asset to his agency. I'm quite sure Officer Simmons will make you an offer before your case comes to a close. And Gibbs and your team are far from ready to let you go."

Tony tried to take it all in, but The Toothpick…_The Toothpick_…was being complimentary, almost nice!

"Whether I like you or not is irrelevant. If you are as good an agent as everyone says you are, as capable as I'm beginning to suspect you might just be, then I do not want you working for any agency other than my own."

Vance stood up and moved towards the double doors of his office; he was enjoying being the one to make DiNozzo speechless, he didn't think it was possible.

"Now I will want your report on the shootings as soon as you can manage. Where are you rest of your team?"

"I gave them the morning off," Tony offered distractedly. "I thought everyone needed some sleep before we played _'find the sniper.'_"

"You're here," Vance pointed out.

"Needed to take my antibiotics anyway," the younger man shrugged.

"Are you well enough to work?" the Director asked concern almost leaking into his voice.

DiNozzo nodded. "Just need to take it easy; I'll have to leave the ass-kicking to Ziva."

Vance nodded; he was glad he wasn't another agent down. "Well, I might not have the same flexibility as Agent McGee has in regards to which databases I would hack into but I'm still pretty good with a computer. Let's crosscheck all associates with the names we already have with anyone who has had marksmanship training. We can discuss this personal matter later."

Tony's shoulders sagged with relief; he didn't want to think about the alternate universe he seemed to have stumbled upon. "We should focus on Navy personnel first; there's more likely to be a link there." He glanced at his watch and saw that it was coming up to 8.30. He'd told the team not to come in a minute before 10am. One and a half hours working with the Director alone…this should be interesting!

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Almost one hour into their research and they had a few possible names; although none of them looked likely suspects it was at least a start. Vance was startled out of his typing by an ecstatic and enthusiastic _'ha'_ from DiNozzo.

The younger man put an image up on the screen. "Meet one very special _ex_-Sergeant Eric Winters. He served with the Marines of First Reconnaissance Battalion until he was dishonourably discharged two years ago. All it says in the file is _'behaviour unbecoming of an officer,' _but if we get in touch with his former CO we might find out what that means.

"These Recon. Marines do all sorts of additional training; some Airborne training, USMC Combatant Diver Courses, SERE training, weapons and tactics…there's not a whole hell of a lot that these guys can't do!

"He took the USMC Scout Sniper Course and passed with flying colours; these guys are trained to be invisible. He'd know all about covering his tracks while on the move."

Vance studied the photograph on the screen in front of him. Former Sergeant Winters had a stoic face; there was very little emotion to read in that almost blank visage. The hair was dark and framed a slightly pale face. His eyes were a dull blue and his lips were pulled into a thin line…no smile only a defiant, almost challenging gaze.

"He got any links to any of our guys?" Vance asked hesitantly. He really, _really_ wanted a suspect for this case. Word had got out to the press that one of the victims, Anderson, had been tortured, and the case was beginning to attract more attention than was wanted by anyone involved with it.

"That's the thing; he did basic USMC training with Spry. As a Recon Marine from First Battalion he must have been based in Camp Pendleton, not too far away from the Naval Base at San Diego, where Spry was based _and_ where Adams worked. I haven't got anything concrete yet but the possibility is there; everything links up."

The Director slowly nodded; at last, a feasible suspect. He and Tony had worked quietly side by side, Tony at his own desk and Vance stationed at McGee's. There had been none of the usual tension between the two of them as they both realised that the case took precedence. And now they had a reasonable result, one that could be explored when the rest of the team arrived.

Vance stood up and moved towards the Senior Field Agent; DiNozzo was staring into the former Sergeant's eyes on the screen before them, excited that the tedious case had a possible end in sight.

"Good work Agent DiNozzo. I need to return to my office. Let me know if this lead goes anywhere."

Tony nodded his agreement and watched the Director walk upstairs to his office. There was a grudging respect slowly growing between them. He doubted either one would ever _like_ the other, but still…it would make for a far better working relationship.

Tony paused.

Was he really thinking about staying? There were so many problems, so many reasons not to…he couldn't stay. Could he?

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_**There you go then…another chapter done. Please let me know what you think.**_

_**SERE Training**__** – stands for Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape.**_

_**Tony has by no means reached a conclusion, so stay tuned to find out more!**_

_**Gibbs and Alex will meet once again and obviously Tony will come up in conversation. McGee does what his boss can't seem to…he apologises to Tony and opens up about how his views have changed. The lead holds water and the team try to track down the elusive sniper.**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/messages.**_

_**Sorry for the slight delay, things build up; I'm sure you all know how it is.**_

_**In this chapter, Alex gets a little over-protective of Tony while he and Gibbs talk some things out.**_

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Ziva ran into McGee in the underground parking-garage; she saw the dark circles around the Junior Agent's eyes and knew that he too had been unable to get the good night's sleep that they were sent home for. Despite the lie-in, neither one of them looked as though they had managed even a hours worth of sleep; they had matching bags under their eyes and McGee's five o'clock shadow reflected his inner feelings…too tired to give a damn!

Both Special Agent and Secret Agent had spent their hours off thinking about their friend and fellow agent. The idea that DiNozzo was really going to leave had set in already, but now they were struggling with what to do about it. There had been too many conflicting and confusing thoughts banging about their heads to manage anything other than a fitful, restless sleep. With a yawn they both entered the elevator.

Arriving at their floor they were not surprised to see that Tony was already here. He had been at work earlier than any of them for a long time now. They were, however, surprised to see the excited, almost cheerful look on his face; his whole body shook with suppressed anticipation. Once they got close enough it was clear that the Senior Field Agent was on the phone to a Naval Officer. His excitement could only mean one thing…he had found a break in the case.

They stepped closer, eager to find out who had shot at them the previous day. Everyone had invested so much time and energy in the case, some people had spilt their _blood_ over it…every single person who had worked this case from the start wanted a crack at this guy. Imagining the torture and examining the evidence behind it had been bad enough, but this guy had been so close; he'd shot dead the only known suspect left, he could have shot dead anyone of them and he'd been right within their grasp before slipping out from under them.

"Yes Commander Miles, I understand. You've been very helpful. Are you available if I need any more questions answered? Ok, thank you very much Sir. And sorry for the early-morning call…you may be used to early mornings Sir, but no-one wants to start their days with this kind of information. Thank you. Bye."

Tony turned round and saw his team looking at him expectantly. He looked at his watch; they were 10 minutes early. Neither of the Simmons were there yet.

"You both look like crap! Did you manage to get any sleep last night?" he asked, concern leaking into his tone.

"Some," said Ziva, as blunt and to the point as ever. "Did you go home last night?"

"I did," he replied quickly, brushing off their concern. "Both of you need to type out your preliminary reports on the shooting yesterday; the Director needs them as soon as possible. I'll catch you up to speed when the Simmons' get here. I need to go and talk to Abby."

_

* * *

_

Alex knew he would be late. Tony had asked that they be back in by 10am; considering he'd given them a late start it sounded more than reasonable that everyone be on time. But Alex's morning had been interrupted by a surprising phone-call…from Agent Gibbs.

He could guess what it was about…or rather _who_ it was about. Alex knew all about the looming resignation and the fact that the issues surrounding it had been shelved for the sake of the case. But it was always there, hanging over the team. He noticed that Abby in particular had become more and more subdued as the clock carried on ticking; he could see that the Senior Field Agent and the Forensic Specialist were as close as brother and sister…it would be hard for both of them.

He walked into Gibbs' room in ICU with a little trepidation; he didn't much care about the man or his reputation but he knew that Tony did, and he'd come to care about the kid…he reminded him of Nate.

Alex knew that some of Tony's biggest problems were caused by his failing trust in the Agency and especially in this man; however, the policeman also had to acknowledge that Gibbs had helped mould a fine team. The Sheriff might be working with Gibbs' team in the man's absence but the agent's presence was everywhere, evident in how the team worked and reacted, how they carried themselves. This man, lying slumped down in his hospital bed with an almost desolate air about him, had helped to create one very dynamic, experienced and incredibly adept team.

The Senior Agent was staring out of the window, brows furrowed with his thoughts. He, like his agents, had not had a very good night's sleep despite the reasonably strong drugs that were still being pumped through his system. He couldn't stop playing Ducky's words over and over again in his head. A small knock brought him out of his reverie; Alex Simmons was standing by the door.

"Come in," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Alex came in and poured out some water, he handed the cup to Gibbs and sat himself down by his bedside, resting his coat-jacket over the chair's arms.

"Agent Gibbs," he nodded his greeting. "You wanted to talk."

Gibbs took a deep gulp of the water, slightly annoyed that this guy seemed to know what he needed. It was hard to hate this guy; he seemed to be kind and considerate, and he clearly had Tony's trust, which wasn't easy to gain. He was also ex-military and, just as both Abby and Tony had said, he was very much a no-nonsense, straight to the point kind of guy. But Gibbs didn't _want_ to like this guy…this guy who might take Tony from them.

"Yeah, thanks for coming."

Alex nodded and waited. This conversation could only really be about Tony; but he was curious as to the direction it would take.

"I'm not gonna let you take him from us," blunt and to the point, Gibbs didn't have the energy to pussy-foot around the issue; there was no need to explain who _'him'_ meant. "You might have asked him to join your team, but we're gonna fight for him."

To his credit, Alex only hesitated for the briefest of moments. "I haven't asked him to join my team, Agent Gibbs," he replied evenly, trying to remain polite.

"But you were going to…right?"

Alex stared hard at Gibbs, not happy with the sharp, authoritative tone the other man's voice had takenn. "Whether I make him a job offer or not, I don't see what that has to do with you. Tony handed in his resignation because of _your_ actions as I understand it."

Gibbs looked down at his hands and fiddled with the catheter that was inserted into the back of his hand. Normally he would have no qualms about staring this stranger down, arguing his case and making sure he got his own way; however, Alex's words had struck a chord and only confirmed all that he had spent the night thinking…counting all the ways he had let his Senior Field Agent down.

"Agent Gibbs, allow me to be honest," Alex leant forward in his chair and looked the Special Agent in the eyes. "I like Tony, a lot. He's a damned good investigator and the kid's got style; he's already saved my life and he's looked out for my daughter on my behalf. He would be one hell of an asset. Now, I don't know half the movies he talks about but we've had some pretty interesting and diverse conversations. I would _love_ to work alongside Tony, and I probably _will_ make him an offer.

"However, I also know that he'll get bored working out in the sticks. We have a couple of rustlers, the odd theft of farming equipment and _very_ rarely the odd murder or two. DiNozzo loves the excitement and variety of his job, all the different characters he gets to meet; he wouldn't get that working with me.

"I also know that as much as Tony wants to leave, he also wants to stay. You fucked up Gibbs and yet he still wants to stay, and I would never dream of taking him away from his family. Although I will gladly kick your ass if you ever screw him over like that again; understood?"

Gibbs was surprised to hear so much from the man. He was surprised to hear the man's over-protectiveness of Tony. Most of all he was surprised that the man was threatening him. Ducky had already traded harsh words with him, but Ducky was an old friend…it was allowed.

"You don't have to explain anything to me about Tony," Gibbs bristled.

"Really?" Alex asked sceptically. "So, you _knew_ he was going to resign? It came as no surprise to you?"

Gibbs' silence gave him his answer.

"Agent Gibbs, I don't know a great deal about you; you have a reputation but I try not to set too much store in rumours…I like to judge for myself.

"You've got one hell of a team and I know that you deserve a lot of credit for that, but then so does Tony. Your team has the highest case-closure rate in the Agency, so either you're all a lot smarter than everyone else at NCIS or, as I suspect, you work them harder then any of the other team leaders might.

"I understand needing to throw yourself into your work Agent Gibbs. You lost your family and that…"

"Don't pretend you understand that," Gibbs interrupted angrily. "You still have your child!" He couldn't believe anyone on the team told Simmons about Shannon and Kelly. That the officer knew about this and the case-closure rates suggested that the man had done his research.

"I have lost both my wife and my son. But yes, I'm lucky, I still have my Rebecca. I have no intention of preaching to you Agent Gibbs; you don't need anyone to tell you how you feel. I was simply going to offer you a piece of advice; don't work out _your_ issues through the _team_. They deserve better than that, _especially_ Tony; your team is all he has Agent Gibbs!"

The Senior Agent was confused; one moment the former SEAL was threatening him and the next he was offering advice concerning Tony and his team. He then realised that most of what this policeman said didn't mean anything to him except for one thing, _'he wants to stay…I would never dream of taking him away from his family.'_

"You really think he wants to stay?"

Alex offered the man a tentative smile, a small peace offering between the two men who both thought they were looking out for Tony's best interests. "He _wants_ to stay Agent Gibbs; but you're the one that has to convince him it's _worth_ it."

Alex stood up and slipped into his coat-jacket. "I've got to go. I was supposed to be there at 10." He moved towards the door but stopped abruptly, without turning round he promised, "I'll watch over him Agent Gibbs; I'm not going to let him go into the line of fire, and especially not when he's injured." With that he left, leaving Gibbs to ponder over the former SEAL's words.

_

* * *

_

Tony had been down with Abby. They had pulled up Winters' DNA and fingerprints from the military database and tried to match him to any trace evidence found in the storm cellar. There were no fingerprints but there was a small trace of blood collected from one of the instruments of torture.

The blood sample had been taken close to the hilt of a small scalpel-like knife; it seemed likely that Winters could have caught himself on the blade while going about his business.

Getting this information together had taken the Forensic Specialist no time at all; she was one of the best in her field after all. However, on that morning her fingers glided over the keyboard with even more speed than normal, eager as she was to temporarily throw her workload to one side so she could talk with DiNozzo and reprimand him for failing to inform her of his injury before letting the Senior Field Agent know just how much she loved him.

She had just brought up the matching blood sample when she turned towards Tony, who was smiling, happy that they were finally making a dent in the case.

_**WHACK!**_

"Ow! What was _that_ for?" Tony cried out, gently rubbing his upper arm that he was sure was rapidly bruising underneath his shirt-sleeve.

"You didn't tell me you got shot…that's what _that_ was for mister!" Abby pouted, her arms placed firmly on her hips.

"Abby, it was nothing serious; I didn't want to worry you," he tried to placate her, although judging by the stern expression that her face still wore he could tell he was failing and that she was demanding a little more information than he had given her.

"The vest caught one, and apart from a little bruising, it's fine. The other bullet…"

"_WHAT_?" cried Abby, no-one had told her that Tony had been shot _twice_! "What other bullet?" She began to roam her critical eyes over her friend's body, before grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look into her narrowed eyes.

"What other bullet?" she demanded in a deadly whisper.

Tony winced a little as Abby's manoeuvring of him had pulled on the stitches on his abdomen slightly. "The other bullet…" Tony continued rather hesitantly, "…it caught me in the side; it was just a flesh wound…some blood loss, a little muscle damage."

Abby dropped her hands from his shoulders and started pacing before him, ranting and hyper-ventilating.

"Why didn't anyone tell me you got hurt? You would have had to go to hospital…oh my God, you were all alone, weren't you? No-one ever tells me anything; I'm stuck in my lab and you're all getting shot at and _no-one_ tells me anything! _You_ should have told me Tony. You told me about Gibbs, but…"

Tony had made his way in front of her, cutting her latest pacing fit short. He mirrored her earlier actions by grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to face him. She was breathing heavily; anger, frustration and worry causing her rapid speech to speed up a notch.

"Abby, I was going to tell you; last night I was just too tired! I was going to tell you this morning but then we made a crack in the case and I got a little carried away. I'm sorry," he said, with such heartfelt sincerity that Abby felt a little guilty about reaming him out.

"Alex stayed with me in the hospital because he needed his arm stitched up too. He lectured me, Gibbs lectured me, Brad lectured me; I'm all lectured out." He smiled at her to let her know he wasn't angry. "All I want now is to catch this son of a bitch!"

Abby wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment. Winters' actions had brought about a whole series of events that involved people being tortured and killed, Gibbs getting shot, Tony getting shot and Alex getting shot.

"I'll go over all the evidence from both the Anderson and Spry murders, from Henderson's farm and from the Adams' farm. We'll get the evidence to put this guy away until the Four Horsemen ride," Abby promised and returned to her work, her heart a little lighter and her work-load a little heavier.

_

* * *

_

Tony returned to the bull-pen just as Alex was coming in.

"Sorry I'm a little late, I overslept."

Tony caught Alex's lowered eyes and Rebecca's raised eyebrow. As a former military man and a current Sheriff, Tony highly doubted the man _ever_ overslept. However, the case was pressing down on them all, waiting for the final pieces of the puzzle to be solved.

He took them all to the conference room they had commandeered for the duration of the case, and filled them all in on the details.

"You and _Vance_?" McGee asked, doubt seeping into his tone.

"Yes Agent McGee," Tony countered, a little anger mixed with righteous indignation. "I am perfectly capable of working with others and getting results."

"No," McGee replied quickly, having caught the hardened glint and the dreaded _'Agent McGee'_ thrown his way from his current team leader. "I didn't mean it like that! It's just that you and the Director don't seem to get along too well and…well…I didn't mean…"

Tony heard the Probie stumbling over his words and decided to let him off the hook. "It's fine Probie; I was a little shocked by the whole thing too, if truth be told."

"So, where is he now?" asked Simmons, ignoring the team moment. He wanted this guy…the guy who had set up a torture shop in his county's backyard…the guy who had shot at him and his daughter and Tony…

"We've got a couple of addresses. There's one that's registered right here in DC and we've got an address for his sister, who lives in Arlington.

"I can't move too fast in the field right now," Tony said, his voice full of frustration; however, he couldn't handle the thought of someone getting hurt because he wasn't field-effective. "Alex, you should probably stay behind too; they managed to wing your shooting arm."

"I'm fine, I can handle it," the older man insisted. He had been in many combat situations where he'd had to carry on injured, or carrying others who were incapacitated. He knew what he could handle, and the wound on his arm was nothing more than a scratch in his mind.

Tony read the determination in Alex's eyes, and heard the man's resolve in his voice. The Senior Field Agent trusted that Alex knew what he could and could not handle. He nodded his assent.

"You go with Ziva, check out the address in DC. McGee, you and Rebecca can go and check out his sister's place. I want to know what their relationship is like; if he's likely to return there then we can get a warrant and post a car on the street. I want this son of a bitch in cuffs by the end of the day!"

Everyone nodded and went about getting the information they needed and the equipment they hoped they wouldn't need, but they knew in their hearts that Winters was unlikely to come in quietly.

McGee sidled up to Tony's desk, trying to forget his conversation with Ziva from the day before where she had insisted that it was too late and that Tony would be leaving regardless.

"Tony, I just wanted to say…I think you're doing a really good job as team lead."

The Senior Field Agent looked towards his Probie and smiled slightly, bemusement glittering in his eyes. "Thanks McGee, you're doing well too."

McGee shook his head; he wasn't looking for praise. "No, I mean it! Last time, I didn't really treat you…fairly," he stated after searching for the right word. "Gibbs left so abruptly and it messed with everyone, including you, but you looked after us and took all our criticisms without a word.

"You're good at this, maybe even better than Gibbs; I just thought…I thought you should know."

"McGee, you coming?" Rebecca called from across the room.

The Junior Agent turned towards her and nodded, "On my way." He returned to his desk and picked up his gun, the address and a brief dossier on the Winters' family. He was making his way towards the elevator when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning round he saw DiNozzo, an odd expression adorning his face.

"McGee…Tim," Tony uncharacteristically stuttered out. "Thanks, for what you said. I'm not sure that I agree with your assessment, but…thanks. It meant a lot."

The Probie beamed at this, glad that he had managed to do something for the man that had done so much for them all. He was sure it wasn't enough to change Tony's mind about leaving. But at least now, if the man left, he would know that he was a valued member of the team and a good friend.

_

* * *

_

_**There you go, let me know what you think.**_

_**I know Gibbs seems a little out of character in this chapter. Alex was able to provide Gibbs with an outsider's view of Tony, and Gibbs hates being shown up and he never likes being in the dark. He gets very defensive and that coupled with his inability to properly express himself makes him a difficult listener. Tried to aim for this approach; sorry if it was off!**_

_**Next up – both teams go and visit the addresses while Tony is stuck back at the office. Ducky takes Tony to the roof where they talk. Alex talks to Ziva about the potential loss of her team-mate. Winters makes another appearance.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Thanks for all the supportive and helpful reviews and messages.**_

_**Sorry for the delay, although I'm sure you all know that this time of year can get pretty hectic. Have had this chapter half-written for a while now, just never got much time to myself to sit down and finish it.**_

_**Happy (belated) Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone! **_

_

* * *

_

Alex glanced at the driver nervously. Since he'd started working with the NCIS team he had heard many different assessments of Officer David's driving skills. His daughter, who had driven with her previously, had said that the Israeli drives like Schumacher on crack whilst suffering from a split personality disorder, never quite sure which side to drive on and just how close to the floor the accelerator should be.

He thought it was a pretty solid assessment.

Ziva had frequently taken the car on to the wrong side of the road, with oncoming traffic bleating their horns; some vehicles had to swerve to avoid ending up in the Israeli's path. With no warning what so ever she pulled the car back over the central reservation and onto the right side of the road, narrowly missing a large haulage wagon.

Alex knew what this driving really meant; it implied training in evasion…evasion of suicide bombers and all sorts of other things he had happily left behind when he finished his military career. What he couldn't understand was how Ziva had yet to realise that driving like this was unnecessary in DC. US Senators were unlikely to start a car chase with her down Capitol Hill.

"Officer David…"

"Ziva," the Israeli interrupted.

"Ziva," continued Alex; "You do know that there is no-one to evade here, right?"

Ziva smiled; his daughter had said something similar. "Habit," she replied simply.

Alex looked at Ziva as she suddenly manoeuvred the car around a stationary truck that had stopped at a red light; she dodged traffic across the intersection seemingly without thinking about it. Yet he could discern within her expression something akin to sadness.

He didn't know the woman next to him very well; since starting the case he had worked primarily by Tony's side. However, he did know that under normal circumstances Ziva and Tony would be partnered together. She was clearly trying very hard not to let her emotions on the subject show.

"So…how are you doing with Tony's resignation?" He wasn't sure what possessed him to try and talk to the Mossad Officer about it, but he was certainly curious as to her response, if she answered at all.

Ziva remained silent. She had had a lot of hours to think about Tony's looming departure, despite the case and all that it had thrown up. She was sure that she didn't want him to leave and equally sure that he would no matter what anyone did.

It had taken her a long time to grow accustomed to Tony. When she first read his file, before she joined the team, she could see that the man produced results but the frequent moves and the official complaints from his time with the Police Force indicated someone who was more trouble than they were worth.

Once she started working alongside Gibbs' team she had found it hard to become accustomed with Agent DiNozzo's manner. He would freely rifle through her desk and pry into her life. He exerted a great deal of effort in his pranks and he seemed to take little seriously.

Ziva had found the Americanism used by all the team members difficult to comprehend, but Tony's were so often mixed in with movie trivia from a cine-culture she did not know. She soon found herself watching films dubbed as classics so that she could understand at least some of what her partner was talking about.

Just as she was beginning to feel comfortable with her position on the team and Tony as her partner, Gibbs quits and runs off to Mexico. Ziva took out her frustrations unfairly on Tony, like many of the others had, she realised.

She still feels guilty about how she acted; about the lack of faith she had placed in Tony when she knew the lengths that Tony would go to for her or anyone else on the team.

This time round, while Tony was acting as temporary team leader during Gibbs' recovery, Ziva had conscientiously been trying to show the Senior Field Agent the respect she knew he deserved. Once everyone had allowed themselves to settle into the rhythm of things, it was surprising just how easy working for Tony was. He was far more capable than he ever let anyone know or think.

She caught Alex glancing at her out of the corner of her eyes. He had remained silent through her musings and had apparently given up hope of receiving an answer, but she could tell he was still studying her.

She noted that the older man did that a lot; she had often caught him sitting back in his chair and looking at Tony, quietly analysing the man's behaviour. She was sure that the Sheriff would make Tony a job offer at the end of all of this, and for this reason she felt slightly infuriated with both of the Simmons. However, she knew it wasn't justified; they were both very capable police officers and they got on well with Tony. Infuriation quickly turned into a pang of jealousy.

"I am disappointed to be losing Tony," she finally confessed, unsure of why she had chosen this man to express her true feeling too. "He has been my partner for a long time now. We have had many problems but he is a good partner…a good friend to have watching your six."

Alex nodded. He had already understood that much from working alongside the man himself.

"I wish that I could persuade him to stay," Ziva continued, "but at the same time I'm not so sure that he should. He feels very strongly about trust, and if he has lost that in the team then perhaps he _should_ go. It is surely better to lose faith in a few people than to lose it altogether." She thought of her own job with Mossad, and the doubts that continually plagued her.

"He wants to stay," Alex revealed. "At least, that's the impression I get. But you're right; if staying with Gibbs is going to damage his faith in people any more than it already has, then I'm not so sure he should stay either."

"Because you want him for your team," Ziva added, almost snidely.

Alex let off a small laugh; this conversation was becoming eerily familiar to his one with Gibbs earlier in the day. "I would love to work with him, you're not wrong there. But Tony would never enjoy working in a small community, and I could never try and persuade him into it."

Ziva took her eyes briefly off the road to assess the level of truth in the Sheriff. His tone was certainly sincere and she could read no deception in his clear, green eyes.

"I don't think we'll know what to do when he is gone. When I came back from Israel, all the team was together again…except for Tony! It felt strange and unnatural somehow. Gibbs was so angry that the Director was being difficult in assuring Tony's return. Everything was…" she tried to find the right word.

"Off balance?" Alex suggested. He saw Ziva nod in approval. He had felt the same when his wife had died. He had gone from a happily married man with a stable family to being a single parent; it had been a real shock to the system.

"I don't think I want another partner," Ziva confessed so quietly that Alex almost missed what she had said. He didn't feel the need to add anything to such a heart-felt confession.

_

* * *

_

Tony was hunched over his desk, working hard but clearly unhappy with having to remain behind. Ducky could see the tension that hung about the younger man's shoulders. The Medical Examiner sighed; things were never straight forward and simple with one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Abby had alerted Ducky to the fact that perhaps the younger man needed someone to talk to. The older man was used to dishing out snippets of advice to everyone on Team Gibbs and had been expecting to see more of DiNozzo over the past few days considering all that had happened.

However, the chocolate biscuits remained unused and the American Pie mug empty. Ducky had been waiting patiently for Tony to come to him, but now it seemed like he would have to make the first move.

There had been a definite change of mood in the morgue. Over the years Jimmy and Tony had formed an odd friendship; his young protégé had gone from being the _'Autopsy Gremlin'_ to someone Tony would take out to lunch when he needed a friendly, impartial ear.

Tony had never really gelled with Gerald; his former assistant had been a far more serious character who took his duty to the dead with a very solemn attitude that Ducky respected. However, Jimmy's eagerness to learn and his excitement about working alongside Ducky created a far more comfortable work atmosphere.

The older man liked the fact that Jimmy seemed to look up to him, loved that the young man set so much faith in his abilities. He could see the parallels between his relationship with Jimmy, to Gibbs' relationship with Tony.

He could also see the parallels between Tony's friendship with Palmer to Gibbs' friendship with himself.

That was why working in the morgue had lost much of its appeal in recent times. Jimmy had friends in medical school, and he was friendly with people throughout the NCIS building. His friendship with Tony was something more. They could both joke together and try to forget the job, creating fake code-names to try and distract themselves from the biting reality around them.

What happened with Michelle was bad enough; Jimmy had been lied to, betrayed even, by someone he had once had feelings for. And now he might lose the only person he would feel comfortable talking to about it.

Ducky would love to think that the young man would feel comfortable talking to him about it, but there are some things that you just don't feel like sharing with your mentor.

Jimmy had spent the past few days in an absent-minded haze. He had also spent a lot of time outside the morgue, rushing about trying to get God knows what achieved.

Distraction was certainly something Tony had helped teach him.

However, Jimmy would have to wait. The young man would still be here next week and Tony would most likely not.

"Anthony," he said quietly, not wanting to startle to young man who was obviously engrossed in the file he was reading.

Tony looked up at the older man with tired eyes; he hated paperwork…give him a gun and a good old fashioned foot-chase on the streets any day.

"Hey Ducky, everything ok…something you need?"

Ducky let a small frown grace his features before trying to school his face back into a neutral expression; DiNozzo was the one who _needed_ something!

"My dear boy, have you eaten anything yet?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. Abby had suggested getting a toasted ciabatta from Mama Sorrentino's. Two of them were sitting in a small brown paper bag that he had clenched in his right hand, slowly cooling.

Tony glanced from the expectant look on Ducky's face to the pleasant smelling brown, paper bag.

"Lunch sounds nice, thanks Duck."

"It's a lovely clear sky outside. What say you to eating this on the roof in the warmth of the sun? Working where I do, you gain a healthy appreciation for the full beauty of natural light."

"Sounds good to me; lead on McDuck," he purposefully misquoted.

_

* * *

_

The roof was quiet and the day was indeed warm. They sat themselves close to the southern ledge, where a cool breeze mussed their hair slightly.

They started off eating in silence. Tony was enjoying the ciabatta and wondering what it was that Ducky wanted to talk about. Ducky too was enjoying the ciabatta, but his mind was preoccupied; he had promised Tony that he wouldn't push, but he was sure the younger man was needlessly suffering in silence. How to broach the topic…?

"Anthony, are you still set on leaving?" Ducky decided to go with being blunt. Tony never much appreciated it when someone pussy-footed around a topic, and he certainly hated it when people were dishonest with him; that is what caused this mess after all!

Tony sighed. He knew this would be coming, but he had hoped for a few more days. Once the case had settled down and things returned to some semblance of normalcy then he could focus on his issues. As things currently stood he was unsure of much himself.

Silence reigned briefly while Tony considered how to answer and Ducky knew better than to push for one.

"I _want_ to stay," Tony finally said earnestly. "But I don't think I _can_."

Ducky wasn't surprised by this revelation. Tony had said as much the first time they talked this over. He remained silent, allowing Tony to speak his mind.

"I will always love this team, but I think I should move on. Really I should have done it a long time ago, when Jenny offered me that job in Rota; then I could have avoided the whole Grenouille fiasco, and that mess in LA.

"But I didn't go, and so it is a moot point. Working with Gibbs…well, I loved it. But things have changed; he's changed…_I've_ changed. After everything that's happened, I'm not so sure we'd make the team we once did."

He looked to Ducky, trying to see what the older man could be thinking. Thankfully he saw no quick judgement or pity in those wise old eyes, only compassion and understanding.

God he'd miss Ducky!

"Do you think I've made the wrong decision?"

"No," Ducky answered without missing a beat. "You must do what you feel is right, and I am well aware that you've put an awful lot of consideration into this decision. It will be a sad day when you leave NCIS but you must stick to your own convictions."

Tony smiled a soft, sad smile. Ducky could always be relied upon to give solid, impartial advice; the older man had often helped ease his fears about his position on the team.

That Ducky recognised that this wasn't a split-second decision based on recently hurt feelings helped ease the burden on his shoulders. Gibbs' accusation that his resignation was a rash choice that was based solely on recent events still stung. He'd worked with the man for eight years; he should know him better than that!

"Gibbs doesn't see it that way. I think Ziva knows that I'm serious about this whole thing; I'm not sure about McGee. He's being nice…which is almost as weird as when Gibbs is nice."

Ducky smiled at this, remembering how Tony was almost disgusted when his team leader was being uncharacteristically nice to his team after Kate's unfortunate death. He recalled how the Senior Field Agent had tried his hardest to elicit some sort of reaction from Gibbs that resembled normal.

"Ziva tried to talk to me the other day," Ducky revealed. "But we were interrupted. She seems certain that anything achieved now would be _'too little too late.'_ She is clearly upset at the thought of you leaving but she never once questioned your motives. I do, however, think that you might talk to your partner; assure her that you will stay in touch. I do believe she has grown rather attached to you.

"I have not really spoken to Timothy about it. I'm sure he would respect your decision but I'm also sure that you may need to explain your reasons to him…"

"I tried that," Tony interrupted, frustration leaked into his voice. "He discounted most of them."

"When was this?"

"The day they found out."

"Well there you have it," Ducky replied, glad to have sorted out why McGee would have been anything less than supportive about a decision that would clearly effect the team.

"Have what?" Tony was confused. What was the old man talking about?

"You didn't give him a chance to digest it. By now, he'll have thought through things. He'll know what you leaving the team will mean. Whatever it was that he said to you that day, Anthony, will no doubt have been defensive knee-jerk reactions. No-one wants to accept that they may have had a role to play in your decision; it is certainly not a piece of information I relish."

"You didn't do anything, Duck!" Tony protested loudly.

"Exactly," Ducky agreed. "And I should have done. I was not there for you as I should have been. I allowed myself to wallow in my own anger at Jethro's departure, and ignored the pain in others…especially in you and Abby. For that I am sorry."

"Ducky…" Tony began, while shaking his head at the Medical Examiner's words.

"No Anthony, please don't try and absolve me of my sins. I know my mistakes, and that you still count me as a friend is blessing enough.

"Give young Timothy another chance. I'm sure he is much more willing to listen now that he has had time to think about things." He looked towards Tony, and waited silently until the younger man met his eyes.

"I'll try again Duck, promise."

Ducky allowed a small smile to pass his lips, before it faded as his thoughts moved on to the team leader.

"I can't say much for Jethro; he is not a man prone to express his feelings in any articulate way, but he often lets his emotions rule his actions. All I can suggest is giving his time and space. It may be that he will never be ready for this conversation but I'd bet good money that everyone has tried to talk some sense into him, and while his patience may be forced, he'll listen to you. You mean far more to him that you imagine, Anthony; please don't disregard that."

Tony nodded, glad that Ducky wasn't sugar-coating things for him. He wanted things to work out, wanted to leave without any bad blood between them; to do that he needed to know how to handle things.

Lunch was finished and both men were feeling slightly better.

Ducky was reassured that Tony was approaching things with careful consideration and believed that his determination to do the right thing by people showed how much he clearly cared about the team.

Tony was happier because he had someone's support. He was beginning to question whether he had made the right decision, although he supposed that was only natural as the deadline came closer. But to know that Ducky, a man whose opinion he truly respected, believed Tony was making a sound judgement helped lift his spirit.

The advice had helped him deal with things a little better; he only hoped he could now help the rest of the team deal with things too.

They were quietly making their way down the stairs the lead to the roof when Ducky broke the silence.

"One more thing, Anthony," the old man said, his voice full of hope.

"Anything Duck," the younger man replied with conviction, all to aware of how much he owed this man.

"Please talk to Jimmy! He's been moping about the morgue and he brushes aside my concerns rather too hastily, quite like someone else I know," he added with a pointed look at Tony.

Tony frowned a little, aware that he had not seen much of Jimmy over the past few days. The younger man had made a quick trip up to the bullpen to make sure Tony was in one piece after the shooting, but other than that work had kept them apart and temporarily killed their life outside of work.

Feeling guilty, Tony promised the Medical Examiner that he would talk to Jimmy soon and take him out for a beer and a pep talk.

_

* * *

_

McGee and Rebecca were making their way towards Arlington. The car was silent. McGee was thinking and thinking again about DiNozzo and his possible departure. He knew that he and Tony had gone through every variance of a working relationship.

For a time, Tony had acted as a sort of mentor to him; he had taught him the things that Gibbs either expected him to know or things that the boss didn't think anyone _needed_ to know. However, McGee had seen Tony produce results enough times to know that his rather unorthodox methods perhaps held some degree of merit.

Once he had settled into the team, Kate, Tony and himself had a very sibling-like relationship. They would bicker over petty things and play stupid pranks on each other and vie for approval from Gibbs, but they would also support each other when they needed too.

Ziva's arrival had come too soon and was surrounded with bad feelings about Ari and Mossad's secret goals. When the team had finally settled down and started to function well as one, Gibbs was put in the hospital and ran off to Mexico, upsetting the whole balance.

McGee was only too aware of how everyone had treated Tony over those four months. With DiNozzo's current position as temporary team leader, it was hard not to compare and contrast Tony and Gibbs. Last time, it had supposedly been forever; this time the position was known to be temporary and there was far less resentment and anger about the sudden change.

Tony had been a fair boss, this time and the last. The practical jokes had stopped and although the camp fire sessions called for merciless teasing, the whole exercise proved how much the Senior Field Agent valued his team and their imput.

As much as he respected Gibbs, Tim was quite sure that their opinion never really held much water; it Gibbs thought something was just so then he would go out of his way to prove it. Of course the man's gut rarely let him down but it did rather invalidate a lot of the teamwork supposedly needed to run a successful team.

Tim had enjoyed being Tony's Senior Field Agent. The increase in work had been an alteration and at first he thought that perhaps DiNozzo had created extra tasks just to be difficult. Then the team regrouped after Vance's separation while Tony was still Agent Afloat; Gibbs had handed over the forms that were the responsibility of the Senior Field Agent.

There were forms that McGee had never even seen before. He questioned whether Tony hadn't handed them on to be nice or simply because he believed the younger man to lack the competence. In the end he tried to ignore it and his pride ensured he never asked DiNozzo about it.

He decided it didn't really matter much anyway.

Tony had been there for him after his first decomposing body scene, he had been there after Kate's death, after he had shot an undercover policeman. The Senior Field Agent had always been there in the background, sometimes with some snarky comment to redirect his focus and sometimes with an experienced ear willing to listen to his worries, no matter what direction his anger took.

"You doing ok?" Rebecca interrupted the silence; her quiet voice was edged with concern.

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" McGee liked Rebecca; she was pretty, smart, knew her way around a computer and was more by the book than most of the people he had worked with; he has never questioned his orders when he's been asked to do some illegal hacking but that doesn't mean the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach just vanishes.

"You seem quiet. With the case, and everything that's going on with Agent DiNozzo…well, it just seems like a lot to take in." She gave a small shrug of her shoulders and passed him a sympathetic glance.

"Tony and I…we've never really been close, but not working with him…it doesn't feel right." He's a published author; he should be more eloquent than this but no coherent thoughts seem to pass through his lips.

Rebecca nodded knowingly and that irritated him; the Simmons might have a good working relationship with DiNozzo, but that didn't mean that they knew him.

"Nate, my brother, we used to fight all the time, about really stupid things. When he signed up I felt so happy; I was a hormonal teenage girl who wanted nothing more than to get rid of her annoying big brother. Then he actually went away to do his training and the house felt so weird. It was quieter and emptier but it was more than that.

"He always saw the things that my parents missed or things they decided to ignore. He would always call me up on it, always! I hated it at the time, but once he wasn't there, looking over my shoulder, I felt more…I don't know…more vulnerable, more exposed."

McGee felt his irritation leave him; he could see the parallels in the story. It did strike him as odd that he'd never heard mention of a brother before.

"I guess now that you're a cop, you're the one that can look over his shoulder," he joked, trying to ease the awkward silence that hung about the car.

He caught sight of Rebecca's face at that comment and immediately felt awful. Just the smallest mention of her brother and her eyes were welling up with tears. She was trying to suppress them but it obviously took a huge effort.

"I'm sorry," McGee started, "I didn't mean anything by it."

It was Rebecca's turn to feel awful; she hadn't meant to react so strongly. She had thought she was better, more in control of her feelings about Nate and his death; evidently not.

"Please, don't apologise; you weren't to know. He died on his second tour in Afghanistan. He was supposed to come home to us nine days later and instead he came home early in a body-bag."

McGee didn't know what to say to that; what _could_ anyone say to that? He awkwardly manoeuvred his arm so he could give her shoulder what he believed to be a quick, sympathetic squeeze.

The small smile still held a tinge of sadness to it, but it lightened his own heart to see that she wasn't dwelling on her brother's death. He'd seen too many people being destroyed by grief.

_

* * *

_

Ziva and Alex pulled up to the address in downtown DC. The neighbourhood seemed to be a reasonably nice one; the apartment buildings were clean and well-kept and the pavements had different trees planted all the way along, evenly spaced.

Alex stopped Ziva from entering the building.

"I don't know how you normally do things but I do know that you used a lockpick to get into Henderson's apartment; we can't risk that here. Tony's still waiting for a warrant to be signed by a judge, and when we get that then we can go in any way you choose. But I am not going to let this son of a bitch get off on a mere technicality."

Ziva was momentarily annoyed that the Sheriff seemed to think she should be taking his orders, and then she actually thought about what he said. Tony had tried to convince her many times over that her lockpick habit could lead to disastrous results in court. She'd never really listened except for a couple of occasions where he had been far firmer with her and pulled rank.

She gave Alex a short, sharp nod to show that she understood and returned to entering the building.

The foyer was clean and functional but not ornate. There was no desk, just an intercom system. They looked at the intercom to see which number apartment Winters lived in and to get the names of his neighbours.

"Room 304 is Winters. We'll knock and see if he's there, although I doubt he will be. Then we should talk to his neighbours; we can see if they have anything that helps us nail him to a dark prison cell."

"We have his blood at the scene; I read the file Tony had prepared for us. Is that not enough?" Ziva questioned. Even after all this time she was never sure just how much evidence was needed. Gibbs always wanted as much as possible and Tony tended to agree with him; at the same time she's seen people convicted on one, single condemning fact.

"We can't leave anything to chance." Alex caught Ziva's nod and they walked up the stairs together, anticipation making their fingers tingle; they both felt as though they were close to catching this bastard!

_

* * *

_

Winters hadn't been home, or at least, he hadn't answered the door. They quickly interviewed the neighbours as discreetly as they could, claiming that he had been reported as a missing person.

No-one had told them anything useful. The former Recon Marine seemed to rarely use his apartment and so they could draw up no real time-line of his absences. They decided to leave and head back to NCIS; they didn't want to risk spooking Winters and hopefully the warrant would be waiting for them back in the bullpen.

The car journey started off quietly again, both frustrated that Winters remained outside their custody.

"You doing ok Ziva?" Alex asked quietly. As a father, a former commanding officer in the military and a Sheriff he was used to making sure everyone else was good and functional.

"We will get him!" Ziva responded, her voice fierce with determination and completely side-stepping Alex's question.

"I know," Alex replied, equally determined.

The car returned to silence before Ziva started talking again.

"I think that even if he _wants_ to stay, he will not," she confessed quietly. Once again she was unsure as to why she had chosen this man to open up to. She had tried talking with Ducky only to have their talk interrupted; she hadn't returned and she honestly couldn't say why not.

Alex knew the conversation had steered back to Tony; he could see how much his possible departure was affecting his partner. Alex didn't know Ziva very well but he suspected that she was not prone to revealing her true emotions very often, so he decided to remain quiet and allow her to option to continue without any pressure from him.

"There are times when I am angry that he resigned. No-one saw it coming…well, maybe Ducky did," she amended. "But I've had too much time to think about it and all I can think now is that he is fully justified in resigning. He has been through so many things, even before I came.

"He is always joking around and playing the fool; you think him immune to the work we do and the things we see. Then he says something offhand that shows how he might really be feeling and you know he's hiding it from you, but he never talks to you about it."

Ziva slapped the steering wheel in frustration. Tony made knowing him very difficult; she liked to think that she knew him well but at the same time she's certain that there is a great deal that she hasn't read in his file and that she hasn't picked up working alongside him.

"He might not stay," Alex stated, "But whatever happens, if you value him as a friend, don't try and push into anything. He doesn't seem to react well to anyone telling him what he should do." He remembered the first time he met Tony and the anger that radiated off the younger man after his phone-call with the Director.

"If it means anything at all," Alex started, rather hesitantly, wanting to reassure the young woman, "He loves working with you as his partner. He hasn't really talked about the team that much to me because we've normally had other things to focus on, but when he talked to me about his team he seemed pretty happy about it all.

"He talked about his 'Probie' and about how far he'd come. He talked about Abby and her eccentric ways and Ducky with his bizarre monologues to the dead. He spoke fondly of Jimmy, as though he were a younger brother. And he spoke about his partner. He said there was no-one else he'd rather have watching his back."

Ziva smiled at this. She could hear no deceit in Simmons' voice and she relished in the thought that Tony trusted her that much. She knew his trust was hard to earn and if the past few weeks were any indicator, once that trust was lost the consequences could be something no-one wanted to deal with. Her musings were interrupted by Alex.

"I don't know how you came to work with NCIS; my clearance level isn't that high. However, I know you were reassigned from Mossad and from what Tony's said, things were tense at the start. But whatever happened between then and now…Ziva, you've got his trust and he'll always be your partner.

"I have people I still consider brothers in arms even though I've been out of the military a good few years now." He looked to the Israeli officer to see if any of it was sinking in; she nodded and threw him a small but grateful smile.

"There is one area where I know he doesn't trust you at all," Alex said with conviction. Ziva shot him an anxious glance. "He thinks, and I have to say I agree, that your driving needs some serious improvement."

Ziva laughed out loud at this; she had heard it many times. Alex smiled too, glad that he had been able to make her laugh and divert her from the serious tone of their conversation.

_

* * *

_

McGee and Rebecca had also struck out in Arlington. There was no answer at the door and one of the neighbours said that she hadn't been seen for a couple of weeks.

From what they could gather, she kept mostly to herself. She had lived in this neighbourhood for almost three years but it seemed no-one really knew anything about her.

They were returning to the car that was parked across the street and a few houses down. They had decided to ring DiNozzo and ask for orders, unsure of whether they should hang around or post an unmarked police car on the street to keep an eye out.

Just as they had climbed into their car, a beat-up, rusting pick-up pulled into the small driveway of the house they had just left. Both agents thought it wise to wait and see who appeared and both agents had to suppress a small shout of glee when they saw that it was Eric Winters, their suspect.

Pulling out his mobile-phone, McGee called DiNozzo, eager to find out what they should do.

Winters entered the house.

The phone rang.

_

* * *

_

_**My longest chapter so far! Please let me know what you think.**_

_**Next Up**__** – Winters is finally brought in and the motive behind his crimes is revealed. Tony takes the team out for celebratory drinks and ends up talking to Ziva and McGee. Alex finally makes Tony the job offer we all knew was coming.**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Thanks for all the reviews/messages/alerts!**_

_**There are a few swearwords in this chapter; the Marine is far from happy about being arrested!**_

_**This is a very case-heavy chapter and for that I apologise. However, this is the end of the case and that leaves what's left of the story to focus on Tony and the team.**_

_**Also, I did say that the team would talk to Tony this chapter, but I wanted to finish the case and tie-up all the loose ends in regards to that – I ended up writing more than I thought I would…a lot more! However, I promise that the next chapter, which won't take as long to post, will be all about Tony and the team.**_

_

* * *

_

Tony was animatedly marching too and fro along his desk as far as the phone cord would allow. They had Winters. Finally!

"McGee that is quite possibly the best news I've heard in a long time. Stay there but don't approach him; I'll redirect Ziva and Alex to your position. Judging by how quickly things went south last time, we need to be careful around this guy. Any sign of the sister?"

"No," McGee breathed out, frustrated. Not knowing where exactly the sister was could lead to all sorts of bad outcomes. "We haven't seen any sign of her and the neighbours say they haven't seen her for at least a couple of weeks."

"Dammit!" Tony was no happier than McGee was with unknown variables. "Ok Tim, hang tight, Ziva and Alex shouldn't be too long and I'll let local P.D in on it too. If Winter's leaves, follow him at a distance."

"Ok Tony, understood."

"Don't get shot McGee, I really don't want any more paperwork on my desk." Tony hung up quickly and informed Alex of the situation.

McGee looked briefly into his mobile phone. Tony's last parting words may have contained his usual joke but McGee could hear the sincerity and the concern. Too many people had been hurt in this case.

He turned to Rebecca; "Back-up is on the way. We're to hang tight until they arrive and follow if he leaves early."

_

* * *

_

Alex held onto the door handle inside the car as Ziva took another bend at high speeds. He narrowly avoided cracking his head against the window. Last time driving was this painful he was driving over revetments in his Humvee on the other side of the world.

However, his daughter was standing outside of a house that contained a suspected murderer and a sadistic one at that; for once, during a day of Ziva's erratic driving, he was glad the Mossad Officer was behind the wheel.

"It should be the next street over Ziva; you might want to slow down. We don't want to spook him."

Ziva said nothing but did slow the car down as they neared the turn-off. Despite being on the other side of the city they managed to arrive at the address in Arlington quicker than many of the local units.

Marked and unmarked police cars were waiting a couple of streets over, waiting for the _'go'_ order from above. Everyone was aware of the case basics, after all the case had made front-page headlines.

Ziva waited with the local LEO's and rang Tony, letting him know that everyone was in position and ready to go.

"It all sounds good Ziva. You got any armed police around?" Tony may be stuck back at NCIS headquarters but he could feel the excitement and the anxiety over the phone. He was equal parts frustrated at not being able to be there and excited that this awful case might be coming to a close.

Ziva looked around at the various police units, she spied a large black box van; "SWAT are here," she confirmed.

"Good, let them go in first; this is the kind of thing they're trained for after all." He waited for some form of agreement from his partner…silence. "Ziva?" He received an unhappy grunt from the other end. "Hey, I promised you the interrogation; you still want that then follow my lead."

"Ok; we will go in after SWAT," she conceded. She really wanted the interrogation.

"Good," Tony sighed with relief. "Oh, and Ziva…wear a vest!" He hung up to inform McGee that everyone was ready and in position. He ordered the Probie to make sure both he and Rebecca were wearing vests too. No-one else was going to get hurt by Winters.

_

* * *

_

There was an almost unnatural quiet along the street. The local LEO's had opted for a stealthy approach due to the nature of Winters' high-calibre training. The police cars and the SWAT van remained a few streets over; everyone moved as quietly as they could, trying to avoid bringing any attention to their actions.

Ziva caught sight of both McGee and Rebecca and saw that Tony had enforced the _Kevlar vest at all times_ rule with them too. She knew that Winters had the skill and clearly the will to take a speedy and accurate head-shot, but she supposed this was her partner's way of looking out for them when he couldn't do it in person.

If she knew Tony at all, and she's quite sure she knew him well enough, he'd be pacing impatiently by the phone waiting for a call telling him that it is all over. She would be doing the same thing. She had never enjoyed being out of the action; she and Tony had that in common.

Alex also caught sight of the bullet-resistant vests. He had heard Tony's directive to Ziva about the Kevlar and could only assume that it had been passed on to the others. That's twice now; the agent seemed pretty determined to look out for Rebecca even though she is nothing to him but a temporary work colleague.

The SWAT team split into two big groups and splintered towards the front and the back doors. Uniformed cops lay in wait, crouching down behind the fence in the neighbouring gardens. Winters couldn't escape through any side of the house without someone seeing him.

McGee and Rebecca were set to enter through the front door after the SWAT team had deemed it clear.

Ziva and Alex were waiting impatiently behind the SWAT team at the rear of the small, suburban residence.

There was still no word of Winters' sister; they could only hope that the man wouldn't become desperate when cornered by the armed police and use his sister as a bargaining chip.

_

* * *

_

Tony was still pacing alongside his desk; every now and then he would shoot half-anxious, half-excited glances towards the phone, willing it to ring. He was ignoring every other noise and every other person in the room.

Abby had come up a few minutes earlier to see how the temporary team-leader was doing after his talk with Ducky. She saw that the Medical Examiner was still in the bullpen, sitting at Gibbs' desk and watching Tony pace with mild concern and slight amusement at the man's restlessness.

She took a seat at McGee's desk and, like Ducky, watched as Tony did what he could to prepare for the raid and pace when he could do no more.

Tony had never been very good at sitting things out. In the early years, when Gibbs had forced the younger man to sit out on the action after injury, it would take every ounce of cunning she possessed and all of Ducky's extensive vocabulary to distract him from directly disobeying one of Gibbs' orders.

This time the situation was different and everyone knew it. This time one Recon Marine had started events that led to the torture and death of at least five individuals and three members of law enforcement getting shot. This time Gibbs wasn't around. This time Tony was the leader and he wasn't able to watch his team's six as he would like. This time…might be Tony's last time!

Abby swirled her chair around in an effort to both entertain and distract herself; she caught sight of the Director watching the proceedings quietly from above. Vance was staring intensely at Tony; there were no signs from the Senior Field Agent himself that indicated whether or not he was aware of any of his audience

Then the phone started ringing and the Forensic Scientist, the Medical Examiner and the Director openly listened in as Tony gave out orders to the local LEO's and the armed police.

The phone rang again and they eavesdropped as Tony gave strict instructions to Ziva about waiting for SWAT and wearing her vest.

They listened as Tony rang McGee and watched as he tapped his foot, waiting impatiently for the Probie to pick up. Once he had given further instructions to both Rebecca and McGee about Kevlar he hung up and sank bonelessly into his chair.

"They're heading in," he said needlessly to his silent crowd.

_

* * *

_

The back door splintered at the force of the battering ram used by SWAT. They poured in, checking every room and every dark corner; guns held in firm grips and in steady hands.

Ziva could hear the SWAT team shout as they cleared rooms; the shouts became more animated once the suspect had been sighted. There were a few gunshots; Ziva grumbled slightly about missing out on the action and Alex fought to hide his amusement.

She and Alex got a call over a radio saying that it was clear for them to enter; they heard the words that they had been dying to hear the moment this case fell in their laps:

"No friendlies hurt. Suspect in custody."

Rushing into the building, they came across McGee and Rebecca, who had also entered in a rush once they received the _'all clear'_ order. The four of them stood still at the bottom of the stairs, eager to see Winters in person, but also enjoying the fact that the arrest had gone far smoother than anyone had anticipated.

Alex was the first to head up the staircase; he wanted to see the son of a bitch behind all of this on the floor and in cuffs.

Ziva followed hot on the Sheriff's heels, taking the stairs two at a time. She was certainly excited to have finally caught their prime suspect, but in another way she didn't want the case to end; it meant that everything was one step closer to Tony's departure.

McGee let Rebecca go up first and he followed after; he felt Tony's influence on him when he looked just a little too hard at the Deputy's rear.

Most SWAT officers were continuing a search of the house, looking for any sign of Winters' sister. Four officers remained with their guns trained on Winters. A discarded handgun had been kicked several feet away from him and rested by the doorway.

Former Sergeant Eric Winters was on his knees; his arms were pulled behind him and fastened with a plastic tie. There was a bullet wound in his right arm where armed police had accurately aimed in order to unarm him.

Everyone had seen a photo of the former Recon Marine; they recalled the stoic face with the defiant eyes. However, the man in front of them now looked almost heartbroken at his situation; everyone had expected far more fire from the man.

His normally dull blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but judging by the near anguish on his face the tears were nothing to do with the pain coming from his arm.

Alex heard him mumbling and he had to edge closer in order to hear what the man was saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so _so_ sorry!"

The man's eyes were not focused on anyone or even anything in the room and Alex was sure the repetitive repentant statement was not for anyone present. He needed to find out where the man's sister was.

"Mr. Winters?" he asked quietly, not wanting to startle the man. It was odd; he came in here ready to kick this guy's ass all the way to Hell, but finding this bleeding, shaking, muttering mess he almost felt sorry for the guy. He'd seen too many soldiers come apart.

There was no answer from the man, not even a sign that he had heard his name; there was only the repetitive monologue of apologies.

"Sergeant Winters!" Alex shouted, putting on his best Drill Instructor's voice.

The former Marine looked up and appeared almost startled by the number of people in the room. He looked towards the man with the authoritative voice.

"Sergeant Winters, where is your sister? Where is Karen?"

The change in the man was instantaneous; anguish turned to fury and apologies turned to curses.

"You asshole…you fucking bastard! You killed her! You fucking killed her! I'll kill you. You hear me? I'll kill you!"

Alex was a little taken aback by the change in the man and was certainly confused by his words. Who the _hell_ did Winters think killed his sister?

He moved over to talk to the officers from SWAT about securing their prisoner. He ordered Rebecca to guard the door just in case. He ordered McGee to phone Tony with an update. He asked Ziva to watch the prisoner; he thought giving her a direct order might not go down too well!

_

* * *

_

Tony had given up pacing since the _'go'_ order went through; he was slouching in his chair and staring at his phone, unconsciously tapping his pencil against the desk.

Abby was still sat in McGee's chair, using her body to swing the office chair from one side to another and then back again. Every now and then she would attempt a complete twirl and end up bashing her knees into a filing cabinet or the desk leg. A few moments later she would try again with similar results.

Ducky was sat at Gibbs' desk and was sorting through the mountain of paperwork that had amounted there during the man's absence. Tony had done what he could but had more than enough paperwork of his own to concentrate on. So far, the M.E. had organised the paperwork into several piles:

the official paperwork that Gibbs insisted on doing eventually, such as signing off on both solved and unsolved cases and personnel reviews.

the official paperwork that Gibbs always ignored but that needed doing, such as requisition forms and shared jurisdiction paperwork. These were always passed onto Tony, and would no doubt need to find a new home now that the Senior Field Agent was leaving.

the official paperwork that everyone ignored, such as new procedures and signing up for training days and harassment seminars.

the crap that would doubtlessly be ignored, such as gun catalogues and feedback forms drawn up by those in human resources.

information on new cases and possible new information on cold cases that anyone on the team could deal with.

He didn't mind doing this; he would do just about anything to take his mind off the arrest that was taking place right now. Normally he would talk the tension away, but he could see that no-one else in the room would appreciate that right now.

Vance had spent most of his time standing still and distracting himself with thoughts on what to do about DiNozzo's looming departure. However, he could not concentrate and he had had enough. He marched down the stairs.

He took the pencil out of Tony's hand which drew a surprised gasp from the younger man. The Director ignored it and walked over to McGee's desk where he caught the chair mid swing and turned it to face into the desk. He heard Abby grumble _'meanie'_ but he didn't much care. He moved back and watched as she tried to stand straight; she was evidently feeling as dizzy as he was feeling after watching her spin from side to side for so long.

Any further protests died the moment the phone rang.

"DiNozzo," Tony almost shouted down the receiver. "McGee? Thank God! Is everyone ok? Have you got Winters in custody?" he rushed out, not giving the Junior Agent a chance to speak. "Please tell me you've got Winters and that he's alive."

The other three in the bullpen tried to listen to McGee's response but couldn't make anything out. However, judging by their temporary team leader's expression, the news was good.

The phone call remained brief and Tony hung up quickly before thumping the air with his fist and a gleeful _'yes!'_

"Are we to assume, Agent DiNozzo, that Winters is in custody and starting the journey to one of our interrogation rooms?" asked Vance quietly.

Tony straightened himself out a little and looked a little sheepish as he glanced around the room; it seemed all eyes were upon him.

"Sorry Director. We have Winters in custody, no-one was hurt during the arrest except Winters who suffered a GSW to the arm, and a graze at that. They're just sorting out the details and then they will be heading back here with the prisoner in tow."

"Is that everything?" Vance asked without malice.

"There's no sign of the guy's sister. Apparently when he was asked about it he went a little nuts. We'll probably have to wait until interrogation to find out what happened."

"Good. Well done Agent DiNozzo. Keep me updated!" With that, Vance headed back up the stairs and into his office.

Tony was still feeling jubilant despite not finding the sister. This was their guy; he knew it in his gut. Now they just had to prove it!

_

* * *

_

Abby and Ducky had returned to their own work once they knew that no-one was harmed during Winters' arrest.

Almost half an hour later Ziva and Alex walked in with their prime suspect securely handcuffed between them. Tony, like the others, was surprised at Winters' seemingly docile and defeated posture.

"McGee and Deputy Simmons stayed behind; they're searching the residence with the locals and CSI's for any evidence that links him to the murders, as well as any clue about his sister's whereabouts," Ziva quietly informed her temporary team-leader.

Tony nodded, "Thanks, take him to interrogation room two; Agent Degas is using one. Don't start until I get there."

Both Ziva and Alex silently agreed, and moved their prisoner towards the interrogation rooms. Tony ran up the stairs to the Director's office; he had promised to keep the man informed after all.

_

* * *

_

Tony was standing in the observation room along with, to his great surprise, the Director of NCIS. He hadn't expected Vance to come down and watch the interview; he'd just expected another simple order about keeping him in the loop.

He'd promised Ziva the right to interview Winters before they even knew who he was; he wasn't going to break that promise, especially considering she was probably the best interrogator they had at the moment.

She was stalking alongside the wall behind Winters, trying to unease the former Marine. She hadn't started questioning him yet and he didn't seem particularly eager to offer up any information.

Alex leant against the wall by the door still and quiet; he had a clear view of Ziva, Winters and the two-way mirror. Tony had had a brief argument with Vance about choosing the Sheriff over an NCIS employee. Tony won!

He argued that Simmons was former military, and while Winters may have received a dishonourable discharge two years ago, before that he was a model soldier. He might feel more comfortable with Alex than anyone else, and in turn the Sheriff might get more from him.

Ziva decided that the time had come; she walked around to the other side of the table and faced Winters, looking down on him where he sat.

"You have been busy," she said quietly. She opened one of the files on the table and removed photos of Anderson and Spry, of the torture instruments, of his former partners.

"We have biological evidence of you on some of these instruments," she waved at some of the macabre glossy pictures. "We can link you to Spry, and we have a tenuous link to Adams, which links to the rest of it. A tenuous link, yes, but with everything else I'm sure the jury would see things the same way we do."

She sat down across from him and kept her voice quiet and calm. "We have blood samples from people that we haven't found. If you tell us where those bodies are hidden, then the judge might look upon your case more favourably."

Winters finally looked up and made eye-contact. He knew that the evidence on the weapons from the barn was enough to convict him. He knew that his connection to Spry was solid and that his connection to Adams would be found out once they started digging a little deeper. He knew he was screwed! But these people might possibly have cost him everything that he held dear and he had no desire to help them.

The woman sitting opposite him was pretty. She oozed self-confidence. The foreign lilt to her accent was soothing. Despite all this, he could see that she could quite possibly kick his highly-trained ass all the way back to Camp Pendleton. Ignoring all that, she was also one of _them_! He had been so close to getting enough money; so close to getting everything he needed. So fuck little Miss NCIS and her deal!

Alex saw that Winters was not at all receptive to Ziva, so he thought he should give it a go. He stood a little straighter; he resembled a soldier standing at ease. He'd have to play the military card.

"Sergeant Winters…"

"Ex!" The former Marine exclaimed. It was the first thing he had said since his outburst back at his sister's house. He shifted his attention to the tall, well-built man leaning by the door. He could tell the man was ex-military himself.

Alex walked towards the table and hoped that Ziva wouldn't think he was stepping out of his bounds. She seemed to get the point and moved to take up his former position by the door.

"No-one ever _really_ leaves the military though, do they? No matter how you leave the military, the military never leaves you. I still fold all my clothes and polish my boots exactly the way my DI told me to. I definitely still think military; I talk about donkey dicks and O-Nine Hundred and sit-reps. I still carry my Leatherman with me for Christ's sake."

The former Recon Marine nodded his agreement; he has his own fair share of military traits that he can't seem to shake. He further examined the man in front of him; he was well built and certainly seemed confident. He had probably lead men. The terms he had just used indicated that he was Navy rather than Army or Air-Force.

"Marine or SEAL?" he asked, convinced it had to be one of the two.

"I was with the SEALs."

Winters liked that his tone hadn't taken a smug tone. He'd met several men from various Special Forces divisions during his time in the military; most of them had been decent guys, but one or two of them had been unbearably smug.

When he'd first had dreams of a military career he'd lusted after a Special Forces position, then he became a Recon Marine; they were as elite as you could get without leaving the Corps. The training was more extreme than anything he'd done in basic USMC training, and he loved it…every minute of it. He became satisfied with where he was and didn't want to leave the First Recon Battalion.

However, that didn't mean he lost the healthy respect he had for the guys in Special Forces.

He knew that the former SEAL was here to use their similar military backgrounds, yet he could not but respect the man.

"Eric," Alex interrupted the man's thoughts. He hoped that the use of the man's first name might help diffuse some of the tension in him. "Eric," he repeated once he had the man's attention. "You had a spotless military record, commendations and even a couple of decorations. You were a Recon Marine, and very few people make that jump. Then you suddenly decide to punch out your CO; what happened?"

Winters paused; he had been expecting questions on the murders and the drugs. This guy had somehow managed to find the route cause of it all. He wasn't sure how to start off; he still felt angry that it had all come to nothing now.

"The guy was asking for it."

"You're not going to give me anything other than that? Looking at your record, besides the discharge obviously, I would have said that you were looking to make your career there. A lot of guys, they do their four years of service and then they move on. Not you though."

Winters had to admit, the guy had him pegged. Did it really matter now? He'd fucked it all up and gotten himself caught and now Karen would pay the price.

"He said something about my sister." He could still remember his CO's face. He'd been on base with the rest of his platoon; they were awaiting shipment to the Persian Gulf. His sister had come to see him and his CO made comments that you might expect in the early years from your DI, but not almost six years in and from your Commanding Officer.

Alex nodded. People in the military seemed to love controversy. They would play Devil's advocate just to get a rise out of someone. Name-calling was a pretty standard feature of his own military experience. However, like Winters, the only one who could ever get away with talking shit about your family was the DI during basic training and your fellow soldiers. Command generally knew better not to antagonise their men; experienced soldiers were valuable and a good CO would know and respect them for that reason.

That said punching your CO unconscious was over-reactionary. Simmons decided to leave it alone for now; the guy was talking now at least.

"Unlike you, Anderson wasn't a good Marine with a clean record; he had disciplinary issues and was suspected of dealing on base. That's how we linked him to Henderson. Henderson had a good military record but once he left the military he managed to acquire several additions to his criminal record for drug-related crimes round Norfolk. Did you get involved in any of that?"

Winters sighed and leant back in his chair. Nothing really mattered; he was caught bang to rights. He didn't have to explain himself, but he found himself wanting to. This guy was right; he _had_ been a good soldier. What he'd done since he left the military had never really sat right with him, but desperation could do strange things to even the most up-right people.

_Fuck it,_ he thought, _might as well get it over with!_

"When Kar came to see me that day on base, she told me she'd just been diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. I didn't know much about it, but I knew it was bad and I knew we probably wouldn't be able to afford the best treatment.

"Our dad left when we were young and our mum died when I was 17. Karen was 14. I raised her and I think I did a pretty good job too, but we never had much money. Even when mum was alive we barely had enough to scrape by."

Alex lowered his head briefly; he didn't want Winters to see the compassion in his eyes and to think that he had found an ally. He knew what it was like to raise children solo. Winters had had a hard life, it seems, but it still didn't excuse torture and murder. He looked up again and waited for the former Marine to continue.

"There's no cure, the body just slowly shuts down; however, there are things that can be done to make it all easier, to make it less painful, and to make her live longer. Insurance only covers so much, and there was a lot. There were so many people she needed to help her; physical therapists, speech therapists, occupational therapists, dieticians…so many different specialists. Then as it got worse she needed her amendments to her home; railing for the stairs, bars in the bathroom. Then there's the other equipment like electric wheelchairs, walking sticks and Zimmer-frames to help her get around.

"Then she started getting depressed; she needed someone who would understand everything about her and her condition…she needed constant care." Winters laid his head down on his cuffed hands. "I let some dumb-fuck CO get to me, and because of that I lost my job, I lost my insurance and I lost any form of income. I fucked up! Karen wasn't going to be able to work; she could barely find the energy to get out of bed.

"I had to do something. She's all I have!" he said with a mixture of desperation and conviction.

Alex noted that he'd talked about his sister in the present tense. "Eric, where is Karen?"

Winters lifted his head and looked at Alex, carefully calculating how much the man could be trusted.

"She's in a care-home. They have people there that can look after her and give her what she needs."

"But it's expensive, right?" Alex could now see how this whole thing had begun; what was it they said? _The road to Hell is paved with good intentions._

"Yeah…_very_! I tried working normal jobs; I made myself ill and then lost out on a whole two weeks worth of pay. I wasn't earning enough; the medical bills were too much. When the doctors told me she would need constant care that I couldn't give her…I knew I needed to get more money, and fast.

"I remembered this guy, Mark Adams. He worked on the docks at NBSD and he had a bit of a rep as the go to guy for drugs, although at first I thought he was still in San Diego. But I reckoned Norfolk must have something similar; I asked around. There were a few dealers; one of the guys I found turned out to be Adams who dealt on base and nearby.

"I wanted in, needed in. It took some convincing but after a broken nose and a couple of busted ribs he agreed. He wasn't military; he didn't know how to fight and he had a gun but he wasn't very good with it…used it more for show than for anything else. I was to act as protection while he dealt. It was small time stuff; weed, coke, even some date-rape drugs like roofies and GHB, but there was a lot of competition and we weren't pulling in enough money."

Alex could now hazard a guess at who some of the unnamed victims were. "So you wiped out the competition?"

"Some of them; we couldn't take out too many or all the others would join together and wipe us out! There was like this unwritten rule that everyone had their areas but some people were looking to branch out; I warned them against it. Then I realised that they were carrying some pretty impressive hardware; they had to be doing well to afford those! I wanted to know how."

Alex sighed; this story just kept twisting and turning. "How did you come by Henderson's barn?"

"I told Adams what I planned on doing; he agreed. He had all the morals of Hell's inner circles." He saw Alex raise an eyebrow at this. "Hey, I never said that what I did was right, but I did what I had to do!

"He said that he had a couple of friends who worked DC. Henderson was former military and I thought that we could use him, especially as our next plan involved a pretty risky take over. The other guy, Browning…he was like Adams; a civvie with a criminal record as long as my arm. He was an idiot, but good for doing the running."

"You didn't want to get your hands dirty?"

"I stood in the shadows, took over-watch and covered their sixes from alley-ways and roof-tops. I couldn't risk dealing out in public; I'd be useless to Karen in prison."

"But torture's ok?" Alex asked in disbelief.

"No, of course not!" Winters snarled. He wasn't looking for redemption; he knew what he had done was abhorrent, but he'd do anything for his sister. "I was the only one with any real interrogation techniques, but some of them were being close-mouthed and I needed to get them to talk. Hurting them or their families became the only option."

"Their families?" Nothing in the case-file suggested anything about families being involved.

"We'd take some photos; show that we could get to their families if we wanted to. We didn't torture and kill everyone!"

"Who _did_ you torture and kill?" Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"Anderson threatened _us_; he threatened Karen, he threatened Adams' girlfriend. We took him out before he could do anything."

"Yeah, I can see that. See this?" Alex picked up one of the photos; it was one of Anderson's body on the autopsy table. "This cut here is quick and professional, and is exactly how a Marine is trained to kill someone with a knife. You killed Anderson?"

"Damn right I did! I'd do it again if I had to!" Winters shouted back. "No-one threatens my sister and gets away with it!"

"But it's alright for you to threaten someone else's sister and get away with it?"

"Everyone has to look out for their own," Winters insisted stubbornly.

Alex could see that he wasn't going to get anything else on that topic. "Anderson only accounts for one of the five blood sample we found down in that storm cellar. Who else was there?"

"One of them was Anderson's guy; after Anderson threatened Karen I wanted him neutralised asap. I asked the guy where Anderson was hiding but he wouldn't give him up, so I had to use a little extra persuasion. I don't know his name; that wasn't what I wanted to know."

"So he gave you Anderson?" Alex wanted to clarify.

"Yeah, eventually."

The images Alex's mind conjured up were bloody and violent and almost made him shudder. He suppressed it and moved on.

"Ok, that's two out of the five. Next?"

"Two of them were no-bodies; other dealers around Norfolk. They tried to push us off our turf; we retaliated. We only tortured one of them; we wanted to know where their stash was. They dealt heroin and we wanted to add it to our stock-list; you get a higher price for that than you do for weed!

"We shot one in the head to show we meant business, but the other one still didn't want to talk so we had to use a little encouragement. Nothing much, just a couple of teeth extractions and one or two broken fingers."

Alex had to hide his disgust…not at the torture but at the _'nothing much'_ and the calm, casual indifference in Winters' tone.

"The last guy was all because of Browning. He messed around with this guy's sister and apparently broke her heart. The guy knew who we were and said he'd gone to the police. No-one knew that we used Henderson's barn so we took him there. We needed to find out what he'd told the police. No-one was in the mood to be friendly. I let my anger get the better of me and he paid the price."

"You didn't mention Spry," Alex pointed out, wanting to know the truth about the last piece of the puzzle.

"That was sheer bad luck. Apparently Adams and Spry were really good friends in High School. Adams' girl got worried about him and called Spry for help. He went to Adams' farm and we were there in the barn. We were talking about what we were going to do next. Spry must have heard us and told Adams that he was being a dumbass, that he should leave us all behind and try to turn his life around.

"Henderson, Adams, Browning…they all liked to shoot up so there were plenty of syringes lying around. I couldn't risk this guy ruining everything, not when I was so close to being able to afford the care-home for Karen. So I picked up a syringe, filled it with some fertiliser that was nearby and injected him with it; I don't think he really saw it coming. He died pretty quickly."

"Of course he did; the fertiliser was full of Potassium Chloride…it stopped his heart cold!" Alex stood up and moved away from the table; he needed to get some space between him and Winters. The guy didn't seem to be at all repentant about his actions.

The silence hung heavy in the interrogation room for several minutes before Winters broke it.

"You're not going to tell my sister are you? Please…she'll blame herself. I might be able to pay for the psychologist or for the drugs she needs, but the money I paid already should cover her remaining time at the care-home; she doesn't have long." He almost choked on the last part.

Alex knew that drug-money was generally seized, but he couldn't bear the thought of making Karen Winters pay for her brother's mistakes; if she had ever done anything wrong in her life she was paying for them and then some. MND was a horrible, slow way to go!

"No-one here will go and tell her what you've done, but this case has become pretty high-profile. I can't make any assurances that she won't find out about what you did cos the media is likely to lead with it for the next couple of days."

Winters bowed his head and it was the first time Alex saw ay sign that he was even remotely repentant; he could carry his own guilt but he didn't want to see his sister spend her last few months with her own brand of guilt over his actions.

_Guess there's some humanity in there after all,_ Alex thought.

_

* * *

_

Tony and Vance looked on as Winters received his charges and was told of his rights. When he was lead out of the room towards the holding cells they turned to look at each other.

"Damn," the Director muttered.

Tony nodded, though his thoughts had been a little less restrained.

"Well done Agent DiNozzo! You've lead the team well and you've closed the case under difficult circumstances."

Tony didn't know if those circumstances were supposed to be due to the nature of the case itself or the fact that his resignation seems to have affected everything these past few days.

"Thank you Director, but everyone else deserves just as much credit as I do."

Vance nodded and walked towards the door. The Senior Field Agent was a mystery to him; the man seemed to live for praise, but apparently only if it came from Gibbs. He paused at the door.

"I think everyone deserves a day off tomorrow, Agent DiNozzo; everyone's been working hard around the clock. The transfer papers for Winters will need to be completed but the rest of the paperwork can wait a couple of days. I'm sure Gibbs will want an update on the case, but that can wait until tomorrow. You and your team need to let off some steam. I leave them all in your capable hands. Have a good night Agent DiNozzo."

With that, he left the observation room and headed for his office. His wife should be happy…he might actually make it home at a reasonable hour tonight.

_

* * *

_

"Ok people," Tony shouted out once he had finished the necessary paperwork. He climbed into his chair and made an obvious show of how difficult climbing into a swivelling chair could be. "Everyone stop what you're doing!"

McGee and Ziva looked up at him with amusement. Tony's theatrics were something they were both used to and something they had both missed.

Rebecca and Alex looked at each other. The case was over and they would be heading home; they would miss working with this team.

"Probie, go downstairs and collect Abby from her lab and both the Duckman and Palmer from autopsy."

Tim stood up and moved towards the elevator. He used to despise the name _'Probie'_ but coming from Tony's mouth right now with actual cheer behind it brought a smile to his face.

Tony turned to the two police officers. "Alex, Rebecca, you are staying another night and I'm not going to take _'no'_ for an answer. I'll even pay for your accommodation! We've all worked together on this case and we're all going to celebrate together!"

_

* * *

_

They chose a local bar where the bartender knew them well. As none of them had been in for a while, the bartender was especially attentive to them. He was shocked to hear that their indomitable leader was down for the count, but considering everyone else's high-spirits he figured it couldn't be too bad.

Everyone had their drinks and joined several tables together. No-one wanted to talk about the case, and so the conversation took a lively turn towards past experiences.

The Simmons talked about life in their sleepy rural county, Abby regaled them all with tales of her latest trip with the nuns, and McGee gathered enough confidence to tell Rebecca about his book. Of course Ducky outshone everyone with the sheer volume of tales he had to tell. Everyone was finally relaxing after the stresses of a long hard case.

It was Tony's round and he moved towards the bar. Alex offered to give him a hand.

"Thank God that's all over and done with," Alex said. He knew no-one wanted to talk much about work tonight. But his remaining time in DC was short and he had no other idea of how to broach the subject.

"Yeah," Tony agreed, "That was a tough one."

"You did well as team lead. You're a damn fine investigator Tony," Alex stated with sincerity and a light hand resting on the younger man's shoulder.

Tony looked at Alex through narrowed eyes; something was up. "Something on your mind Alex?"

The Sheriff smiled; Tony was far quicker than most people gave him credit for. "I'm going to say something, and I don't want you to say anything after it. I just want you to think about it."

"O-kay," Tony murmured in confusion.

"I am offering you a job at the County Sheriff's Office…at _my_ office! I don't think you should take it, not sure you'd want it! It's a quiet, sleepy area with the odd cattle rustler and the occasional DUI in a tractor down the main street in town. But you're a damn good investigator Tony, and a damn good man, and if you ever fancy a quieter life, the door is always open."

Tony gaped like a fish for a few moments; Alex was offering him a job that the Sheriff _didn't_ think he should take? He was about to say something when the barman came over to take their orders.

"Don't answer now Tony; I just wanted you to know that you have somewhere to go if you need it, somewhere to escape to."

Tony was still unsure of what to say so he kept his mouth closed and nodded his agreement.

They carried the tray of drinks back to the table. Ziva had been watching them from across the bar and could tell that something had been said between them. She guessed it was a job offer; everyone had seen that coming but Tony. However, nothing was mentioned about it and so she chose to ignore it for now.

The night continued and everyone became rather more unruly as the glasses emptied. The stories were still being kept light and everyone was being regaled with playful stories about past indiscretions.

The group broke up at almost 11.30pm. As much as everyone would have loved to spend more time together celebrating the end to a disastrous case, everyone was tired and several days of hard work and little sleep caught up to them. There were promises to meet up again tomorrow as they all had a day off and time to kill.

Alex and Rebecca, however, were going to head back home in the morning and so made their goodbyes outside the bar. Everyone promised to keep in touch although Ziva was sure only a limited number of them would; her gaze drifted towards Alex and Tony who were once again separate from the group.

"About what you said earlier…" Tony started hesitantly.

"Don't. I don't want to hear it." Alex insisted adamantly.

Tony smiled; "I might be saying yes!" he pointed out.

"You wouldn't. Besides, I think your heart is still pretty set on staying in DC." Alex gave Tony a thoughtful look. "You know, there are a hell of a lot of ways to remain in DC without staying Gibbs' team. The people here will take you any way they can; seems even the Director has had a change of heart."

Tony had no answer to that. He knew the end of the case would bring his resignation to the forefront again.

"Don't go making any decisions that you going to regret. You have time. I will be in touch Agent DiNozzo," Alex smiled at him.

Everyone said their final goodbyes and the Simmons walked away down the street. Tony only hoped that he would see them again.

_

* * *

_

_**So there you go, another chapter done. Let me know what you think; all reviews and comments appreciated.**_

_**Motor Neurone Disease**__** is a horribly debilitating disease and affects someone's life in every possible way. I'm sorry if I've upset anyone with my use of this disease; it was not my intention. Two family friends have been diagnosed with MND, one of them some time ago, so I know how upsetting it can be.**_

_**Some of the military terms explained. Some of you might not need them, but for those who do…**_

_**DI**__** – Drill Instructor.**_

_**Donkey Dicks**__** – the phrase for any number of phallic-shaped objects used by the Navy.**_

_**O-Nine-Hundred**__** – the military tends to operate with the use of 24 hour clocks. For example, O-Nine-Hundred is 9am, and 22-Hundred is 10pm. (Would not be written 22-Hundred, just said that way – would be written 0900 and 2200)**_

_**Sit-Rep**__** – Situation Report.**_

_**Leatherman**__** – an all in one pliers, knife and screwdriver.**_

_**CO**__** – Commanding Officer.**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Thanks once again to everyone who reviewed and alerted and to those who messaged me!**_

_**Not out quite as quick as I had hoped, but I'm sure you can all recognise that other things can get in the way.**_

_**Tony and the team (some of them) finally talk things out and clear the air.**_

_

* * *

_

_**FIVE DAYS TO GO**_

Tony walked into Sorrentino's a little before one in the afternoon. At first he thought he must be the first one there, but then he spied Ziva sitting at a table near the window, sipping on a freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Hey Ziva," Tony greeted as he slipped into a seat opposite her. "Are you the only one here so far?"

Ziva nodded and looked up at her partner; the twelve hours of sleep had certainly done her some good but looking into Tony's rejuvenated face, she could tell that it had done him the world of good.

His eyes were clear and the bags under his eyes were a lot lighter. He was dressed in jeans with an old Ohio State sweatshirt and he had a clear case of bed-head. But above all else, Ziva noticed that he was smiling and that this time, unlike so many other times over the past few weeks, the smile reached his eyes.

"Ducky left a message on my phone; he said that he would have to stay home and help with his mother, and apparently Palmer offered to help. They send their apologies."

"Oh, that's too bad," Tony lamented. He'd been looking forward to spending some down-time with the team; after all, it might be his last real chance.

Ziva gave a quiet, mumbled agreement; she had her own suspicions about why they had declined to come.

Mama Sorrentino noticed Tony and came over. Apparently, despite Ziva's own _positive_ appraisal of her partner's state, the motherly Italian woman was not quite so easily satisfied.

"Antonio, you look as though you have not slept for a month!" she admonished. "You will need some espresso to get you through the day and a big meal. Have you had any breakfast yet?" She had seen his bed-head and was certain of the answer.

"Surely you're not serving breakfast now?" Tony focused on the food, hoping that the lecture on looking after himself properly might be avoided.

"Nonsense!" Mama Sorrentino brushed aside his concerns. She focused on the young woman opposite her Antonio. She had seen the woman in here once before and she had seen the gun; definitely a work colleague! "Would you like some more juice? Some breakfast?"

Ziva was a little taken aback by the woman's concerned demeanour; when she was here last, she saw the Italian direct all her motherly attention towards Tony. However, she found that she liked the maternal concern and did not want to upset someone who clearly meant a lot to Tony.

"Some breakfast would be nice, thank you."

"Ok, I bring some croissants and some more juice. Is bene, si?"

"Thanks Mama!" Tony gave the older woman a quick kiss on the cheek. "An espresso would be great."

Shortly after Tony's drink came and Ziva's juice was replenished, McGee arrived. He, too, looked thoroughly unkempt. Like Tony, McGee had left his suit at home and had opted for more casual attire; he was wearing a roll-neck sweater and some brown cords.

"Hey guys. Sorry I'm late. I didn't even wake up until half an hour ago; guess I was more tired than I thought!"

Mama Sorrentino came over and took his food and drink orders before leaving them alone once again.

The three of them started off with small talk; discussing the case, their imprisoned criminal and how much they enjoyed working alongside the Simmons. However, their chitchat was interrupted by Ziva's mobile ringing once again.

It was Abby calling to say that she'd have to cancel; apparently there was a nun with a crisis.

The call confirmed Ziva's earlier suspicions; the rest of the team were giving her and McGee a chance to talk to Tony. She kept these suspicions to herself.

She didn't know whether she should feel offended that they clearly didn't think she was capable of taking the time to talk to Tony, or whether she should be grateful that they were sacrificing time with Tony for her benefit.

Once the food came, conversation seemed to die down into an awkward silence; Ziva was trying to figure out how to start the much needed conversation with Tony, while McGee was beginning to put the pieces together as to why Abby, Ducky and Palmer had ducked out of this team get-together.

Tony was also thinking quietly to himself. Like Ziva, he had quickly deduced the real reason for their friends' absence. Also like Ziva, he was wondering how to begin the conversation; things had become so mangled, he didn't even have an inkling on where to start.

Despite being the last one to figure out the truth behind the others' absence, McGee was the first one to dive into conversation.

"So, you're really going to leave?" he half asked, half stated.

Both Tony and Ziva breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation had started, then Tony realised that it would mean talking.

"Well, I've had a few job offers, but nothing that's inspired me. I haven't really had the time to look around at other jobs."

The other two recognised that the Senior Field Agent had side-stepped the question, not really answering one way or the other. However, after working alongside him for several years, they both realised that Tony would not react well to being pushed.

"Where do you think you'll go?" asked Ziva quietly. She hoped that he was contemplating a job in DC, or in the DC area.

"I don't know," Tony shook his head. "Like I said, I've not really had a lot of time to think things over. Maybe I'll go home…it's been a while."

"Home?" McGee asked with mild confusion: _surely DC is home,_ he thought.

"Yeah, New York. Probably _not_ Long Island though; not sure I'd want to be _that_ close to home!"

"There is nothing we can do to make you change your mind?" Ziva enquired, defeat tainting her otherwise strong voice.

Here, Tony found he could no longer look into his team-mates' eyes. He didn't _want_ to leave, he really didn't. This team was his family…everything he held dear in the world was to be found inside the NCIS building in Washington DC. However, no matter how much he might want to stay, he's just as certain that he needs to leave.

"The decision I made…it's not because of you; it's more to…"

"Bullshit!" McGee interrupted rather loudly, his voice full of conviction. Many of the other patrons in the restaurant looked their way; some with curiosity, and some with disapproval at the rude interruption to their lunch hour.

Ziva didn't speak aloud, but she whole-heartedly agreed with McGee's sentiments. There were bound to be a lot of contributing factors to Tony's decision to resign; some of them, like Jen and Jeanne, were obvious. However, there had to be more!

Tony looked at McGee; the Probie's outburst had shocked him. McGee could often deliver stinging barbs and scathing put-downs, but Tony had never heard him raise his voice and use such a fierce tone.

"McGee…" he started off unsurely, only to be interrupted by the Junior Agent once again.

"No, Tony! You don't get to white-wash everything. You don't get to absolve us of everything. If we've fucked up, you need to let us know! Hell, you've already told me some of it and I was too angry and too shocked to really listen, but I do know that you place some of the blame at our feet. And the more I think about it the more I realise that perhaps you're right to!"

McGee's abrupt end startled Tony almost as much as the Probie's use of a swear-word. _Has he ever sworn before?_ Tony considered.

"I can guess some of the reasons you are leaving," Ziva thought it wise to step in and cool things down a little. "The undercover operation with Jeanne is definitely one of them." She left it there, knowing that Tony would not appreciate going any further into the issue.

"Yeah," Tony agreed quietly. "That's one of them." He wasn't going to delve any further into this subject; even Abby hadn't managed to get him to open up about that particular topic.

"L.A. is another; yes?" Ziva wasn't really sure why she asked. She had seen the devastation on Tony's face and heard the self-recrimination in his voice. Vance might not have sent Tony away as Agent Afloat for punishment, but she was pretty certain that Tony had been constantly punishing himself while at sea.

Tony nodded; this was another topic that he didn't want to get into.

"Could you explain to me the reasons for leaving that involve me and McGee? I think I can guess one of them; we were not there for you as a team should be and that is not something we can change in the past, but we can change it from now on!" she finished off, determined to prove to Tony that she could be the partner he deserved.

"You also said that we didn't trust you," Ziva continued. "That is not true! I trust you with my life. I was not lying when I told you the reason I went to Gibbs and not to you; it was because I did not want to be the one that put your life in danger. I did not go to you _because_ I had your six; I was trying to protect your life _and_ your career!" she insisted firmly.

Tony had heard this from the Mossad Officer before, and he was beginning to suspect that she was being honest. He nodded and mumbled a quiet_ 'thanks.' _This was all becoming quite a lot to take in.

"And you were right, about me always sniping at you," McGee admitted gently. "I don't mean to!" he insisted. "I guess I'm just not as good at it as you and Kate were. There are times when I'm _really_ pissed off at you…"

"The superglue thing?" Tony guessed, trying to suppress the smirk that was trying to break through.

"Yeah, the superglue thing" admitted McGee with a slight smile. "It's not just that though. You _never_ get called Probie, and Gibbs _never_ seems to doubt you out in the field and you _always_ seem so sure of yourself. I feel like I constantly have to prove myself, and sometimes I guess I get a little jealous. I don't mean to take it out on you; it just seems to happen that way."

"_You_…are jealous of _me_?" Tony asked incredulously. "Tim, I would _love_ to have your computer skills! You find our suspects by doing things with that PC of yours that I would never even have imagined possible!"

McGee felt his spirit soar; not only had Tony used his first name, a rarity in itself, but he had also admitted to his own pangs of jealousy. He might once have believed that Tony was a very self-assured agent, but it was comforting to know that he was just as human and insecure as the rest of them.

"Look, I'll admit that there have been times when the two of you and how you've acted…hurt me, I guess. But like Ziva said, there are other reasons…so many other reasons. Tim, I'm not _trying_ to white-wash anything; if I'm leaving, I just don't want to do so with bad blood between us.

"Last time I was team leader, both of you seemed to doubt me and my leadership, but this time I think we've all managed to come together to create one hell of a crime-fighting team."

There was a moment's silence while everyone let all this in. Then Tony turned to Ziva; many days ago they had talked about this very same topic, but something had been nagging at Tony since then.

"One thing I do need to know though…was it me you respected or the position?"

"Well, of course we respect the position," McGee started. "But then you showed us how well you filled the position, and we definitely respect you for that," he hastened to add before Tony got the wrong idea.

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "We should have already known of course, but last time we were not behaving properly, as a team should."

"Exactly," McGee continued. "You've filled in for Gibbs twice now, and done well each time. Neither time can have been easy; first with Gibbs leaving so abruptly, then with him being shot!"

"Oh no!" groaned Tony suddenly.

"What?" the other two asked in union, concern in both their voices. _Were they not getting through to him?_

"I've got to go and see Gibbs, and I can guarantee that conversation will _not_ go as smoothly as this one."

Ziva smiled knowingly while McGee let out a small chuckle; neither one of them had ever envisaged Gibbs as the cuddly, sharing, caring kind of man. They had both seen how much the older man desired to keep Tony as his Senior Field Agent; to do that he would need to by-pass his usual gruff approach and be genuine and open with his feelings.

Plausible?

Despite the serious nature of the conversation that Tony and Gibbs would undoubtedly be sharing, both McGee and Ziva would pay good money to see exactly what Gibbs classed as emotional honesty; the images conjured in their minds were too bizarre for them to think the man actually capable of being touchy-feely with anyone bar Abby.

McGee ended everyone's musings when he turned to Tony with a serious countenance; "Are we really ok?" he asked nervously. If the older man was really leaving, then he didn't want them to part with bad blood between them either.

"We're really ok," Tony replied with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Like I said, there were times when either what you've said or how you've acted towards me has hurt, but I'm sure I've upset the two of you over the years too. These things happen," he offered with a small, dismissive shrug of the shoulders.

"Just so you know," Ziva added; "If you do decide to stay, don't think that you can guilt-trip us into buying you your coffees, donuts or burritos."

"I would never dream of attempting such a thing," Tony replied with a mischievous twinkle in his bright green eyes.

_

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_

Tony returned to his apartment alone. He had enjoyed his late breakfast with both Tim and Ziva, and was thankful that Ducky had the foresight to cancel on him.

He was quite certain that it was all Ducky's idea. Jimmy and Abby would have understood, certainly, but they were unlikely to have come up with the idea themselves. Jimmy, as conscientious as he can be, can be a little clueless. Abby likes to be there to see everyone play nice and make up. Ducky always seems to know what everyone needs…thank God!

He wasn't lying to Ziva or McGee when he said that their actions had little effect on his decision to resign. Sure, what they said or what they did affected him, more often that not it pissed him off rather than upset him; he would silently stew in his anger and then something would happen that would remind him why he loved working so much with this team in the first place.

No, they didn't really have all that much impact on his decision to leave; that was down to the higher echelons of command within NCIS, and down to his own personal decisions.

He agreed to Jen's undercover operation; he could have said no. He should have taken that job in Rota, then he could have avoided so many disasters; instead he turned it down. He decided to sleep with Jeanne and he knowingly let himself fall in love with the beautiful doctor; he should have been able to avoid that…somehow. He could have followed Jen in L.A. but he decided against it.

So many things he could or should have done; so many decisions that could have lead to better outcomes for so many people.

However, he managed to hold on to enough of his anger to know that the blame does not lie squarely on his shoulders.

Jen lied to him, on so many occasions. Vance sent him away; he spent over four months on ships with a population of 5,000 plus sailors and he had never felt more alone. Worse than all of these though, was Gibbs; the man he had respected from the moment he started working at NCIS, the man that he had tried to emulate for so long…and now he felt betrayed by him.

What in Hell's name could he say to the man?

He didn't want to lose Gibbs; the man had meant so much to him for so long that he wasn't sure he ever could let go completely. Tony may already have been an investigator when he and Gibbs met, but it was Gibbs who trusted his judgement and directed his energy into the proper channels.

It was Gibbs who taught him Rule No. 9, which had saved his life before and probably would again.

It was Gibbs who had sat by his hospital bed surrounded in a bubble of blue, as he lay there coughing up blood and phlegm and fluid from his lungs, and ordered him not to die.

It was Gibbs who stood next to when Kate was shot, and then stood next to him again at Kate's funeral and tried to be nice to him because he didn't know what else to do to make everyone feel better.

It was Gibbs who fought to get him back from his position as Agent Afloat.

No matter how angry he was and all the things that the Senior Agent had done wrong, he couldn't forget all the things that Gibbs had done right either.

But was all that enough to make him stay?

He's still not sure it is. No matter how much he wants to stay, he is certain that it would be better for him if he left. It would certainly be better for him career-wise; he knew he couldn't always stay as Gibbs' Senior Field Agent. However, he also thought it would do him to world of good emotionally if he left.

He had spent so much time worrying over so many work-related things; he had spent too many hours working through his anger…

He had always felt as though he were slightly damaged when he was growing up. A dead mother when he was just a small boy, an absent, over-bearing father, military school…he had never really felt whole.

Working crimes and putting criminals behind bars made him feel that bit better about his life, but he had never felt as complete as he had when he worked at NCIS.

Abby was the sister he never had; they would conspire together and get into mischief; they would check out the latest clubs together and would check out each others prospective girlfriend/boyfriend to see whether or not they approved. They would test the patience of the adults around them with their childish antics and not care if they pushed too far because they were having too much fun.

If Abby was like his sister, then Jimmy had become his little brother. When they first met they were amicable, but nothing more than that. However, as the years passed they discovered that they shared the same child-like excitement over the most ridiculous of things; who else made up code-names for entire teams of seasoned agents with the same level of glee they had managed? They also shared their tales on the trials and tribulations of working alongside their mentors over quiet beers and football games.

Ducky was much like he expected a grandfather should be; he had no real memories of his own but he had always imagined them to have many tales of times gone by and to always be ready with some words of wisdom. The Medical Examiner always seemed to know when he needed something, whether it be the smallest gesture of physical contact or a patient, non-judgmental ear.

Kate, Ziva and McGee had all become people he loved working alongside despite their many petty arguments; more often than not he would start the bickering deliberately because he enjoyed the banter so much. They worked well together and shared the ups and downs that came with life and with their chosen career.

Gibbs…well…he just didn't think that he really knew what the man meant to him. Sometimes the Freud in him highlights the daddy issues; he hopes he doesn't impose them on Gibbs but he knows that they undoubtedly slip through the net. Sometimes, he sees Gibbs as the cool big brother that he wants to follow everywhere and copy everything he does. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly resentful during a time of injury he gives the team leader the position of mother-hen.

Tony sighs; he just doesn't know how to handle this situation.

He decides to have another shower and wake himself up before facing Gibbs and the undoubted emotional turmoil that it will bring. Admitting harsh truths to yourself is one thing, but having to say them out-loud is always much harder.

Tony doesn't know how the conversation will go, but he knows that no matter what Gibbs says, there are some things that kind, well-meant words will never change. Moreover, some part of him is nervous that Gibbs will be honest and that he will not want to hear what the man truly thinks of him.

None of this really mattered of course; it was a conversation that had been shelved for too long, and like it or not, it was time to face the music.

_

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_**There you go…another chapter down. Not too many to go now. All reviews and comments appreciated.**_

_**Next up - Gibbs and Tony **__**finally**__** talk, but will anything be resolved?**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**A big thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/messaged and what not.**_

_**Sorry about the delay; an old friend died and I didn't much feel like writing. Thanks for your patience.**_

_**This is it…the chapter where Gibbs and Tony **__**finally**__** talk things out. But will it solve anything?**_

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_

Tony arrived at Bethesda just in time for the evening visiting hours. He suspected that this talk between the two of them would certainly last the two hours permitted, and would probably go beyond that. He'd ensured that he was carrying his badge in case he needed a few extra minutes with his boss. He may never have been a Boy-Scout, but years of working alongside one Leroy Jethro Gibbs had imprinted the _'Always be prepared'_ motto his mind.

When he came to the Senior Agent's room, the bed was empty and the IV stand was gone. _Must be walking the halls_, Tony thought to himself.

He had come prepared; in his hand he held a small cardboard tray holding two cups of very strong coffee for his boss and a cappuccino for himself. He placed the tray down of the floor behind the chair, hoping to halt any interrogations from the nurses.

Besides the coffee tray, he placed a small brown paper bag, which held some food and a couple of magazines for his boss. He had also brought along copies of the case-files, knowing that Gibbs would be going out of his mind with boredom.

He understood that; one of the main reasons he hated being stuck in the hospital himself was that there was nothing to focus the mind on.

He was halfway through his cappuccino when Gibbs walked back in, dressed in old sweatpants and a faded NIS t-shirt. The older man was clinging to his IV stand as if it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. He saw Tony and offered a hesitant smile; the younger man knew that Gibbs wouldn't like anyone seeing him in this shape, but there was little he could do about it.

The nurse, one that Tony hadn't seen before, got Gibbs settled and then injected a small dose of what he assumed must be a painkiller of some kind. She left the two of them alone without saying a word.

As soon as she was out of sight Gibbs let out a big sigh of relief.

"Thank God she's gone. She's a nurse from the physio department," Gibbs said with a hint of malice in his voice, as if that small sentence explained everything.

Tony could guess where the hostility came from. He'd received physiotherapy before and when the sessions first started, the pain and exhaustion that arose felt close to torture.

"So you're looking forward to tomorrow's session then?" he smirked at his boss and completely ignored the deadly glare Gibbs shot him.

"Just hand me the damn coffee," the older man grouched.

Once he had the coffee in hand he took a long sip and looked over his Senior Field Agent. Tony looked lighter; his shoulders were no longer hunched down as if he were carrying the weight of the world on them. His eyes were bright and clear and when he had joked about Gibbs' misfortune, the smile reached his eyes. They were subtle changes but they made all the difference.

"So…" Gibbs began uncertainly. Both Abby and Ducky had practically threatened him not to screw this up; _easier said than done_ he thought morosely to himself.

Tony could read the hesitation in his boss' eyes easily; he was sure that same uncertainty was in his _own_ eyes!

"We've finished the case," Tony blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I've brought copies of the case files, thought you might like something to do."

"Thanks," Gibbs offered with a short, sharp nod. He'd heard that the case was over from both Abby and Ducky, but they had both decided to leave the details to Tony. "So who was it?"

"A former Recon Marine called Eric Winters. He got into the drug dealing business to try and raise money for his sister; she's got Motor Neurone Disease. Those he killed were because he was trying to protect himself."

Gibbs shook his head; all those deaths came out of someone initially trying to help his sister. _The road to Hell…_he thought.

"How'd the sister take it?"

"Don't know; Winters asked us not to say anything to her. She hasn't got long to live by the looks of it so I didn't see the harm; no-one should have to die with that on their conscience. I just hope she doesn't watch the news for the next couple of days."

Gibbs remained silent but nodded along; he knew that if it had been up to him, he too would have tried to keep the poor woman from spending her last days blaming herself for her brother's desperate and misguided actions.

"Everyone work well together?" he asked curiously. While he wanted to know about the two LEO's that the team had worked with and enjoyed doing so, he also wanted to know how Ziva and McGee had responded to Tony being in charge once again.

"Surprisingly, yes. It was all a lot smoother than last time, although probably because they knew you'd be back in charge soon." Tony gave a mischievous grin at the last comment.

Gibbs, however, frowned. He couldn't understand why Tony still lacked the confidence in his leadership skills; he'd proven to himself and others that he was more than competent. Of course, Gibbs had ignored Jen's advice about congratulating Tony on his efforts while he was away in Mexico; however, he still couldn't understand why his word would carry so much weight with the younger man.

"They say something? Ignore your orders?" he asked with a little more heat to his tone than he had intended. He hoped that the team had been supportive of Tony; with the risk of him leaving for good, everyone needed to pull together and let Tony know that he was appreciated and respected and even liked.

It was Tony's turn to frown. He had told Gibbs that everyone had worked well together; the result being the criminal put behind bars. Had someone else thought that things hadn't gone smoothly? Both Ziva and McGee seemed to agree with him at lunch. Had Ducky or Abby seen the new team dynamic differently?

"As far as I know, we did well. There was a small incident with Ziva breaking out the lock-picks in front of Rebecca Simmons, but I sorted it. We got the bad guy, we're all talking to each other, and no-one died. I'd call that a success." Tony grinned at his boss again, this time with a little more certainty in his eyes; he was sure that the team had worked well together.

Gibbs returned the grin. He liked that Ziva had the skills, but she had to learn when and where to use them; court cases depended on procedure and protocol and people believing that they had been followed. If a life was in danger, then he was prepared to turn a blind eye and do what needed to be done, otherwise he didn't want to give anyone the chance to get off on a mere technicality.

"Well that's something I guess; Ziva didn't even give you a black eye…impressive," he nodded his approval, a wry grin slowly creeping across his face. Tony easily returned the grin, glad to see that his boss was in a good mood. "You did good DiNozzo; you kept everyone on track despite the circumstances and you solved the case."

"Thanks Boss," Tony said with much more calm than he was feeling. Gibbs rarely gave out praise; an occasional _'good job'_ was thrown out when he was feeling particularly benevolent, but even those were infrequent.

He grew slightly frustrated with himself; he was angry with Gibbs but the man's praise still meant so much to him. What was it about the man that made him crave his approval?

Gibbs didn't know what else they could talk about; he wasn't normally a man to waste time on small talk but he really wasn't sure how to start this conversation and he feared the direction it may take and the consequences it may carry. However, he knew that words needed to be said and he knew that he was the one that had to say them. He took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves.

"So, you're still set on leaving?"

Tony studied his hands intently unable to retain eye contact though this conversation; he was afraid to see disappointment and anger in them.

"Yeah, I guess. I haven't really done much about looking around though; the case kind of took over."

"Why do you want to leave Tony?" Gibbs asked with an almost exasperated sigh. How the hell could he rectify this?

"Didn't we already have this conversation? It didn't end too well." Tony pointed out, hoping to avoid a discussion that he knew Gibbs would not let go, no matter how much he asked him too.

"Yes we did talk; we were both angry and frustrated and let our emotions cloud the issue. You said you wanted to leave because of the Grenouille assignment and because of Jen. You said you wanted to leave because of the whole DOMINO mess. You said you wanted to leave because…because you didn't trust me. Is that true?"

It was Tony's turn to sigh. Gibbs was still in his hospital bed recovering from a GSW; this really wasn't the time or place for a conversation of this magnitude.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked, waiting for him to answer his question and not liking the fact that there was even a moment's hesitation. Tony always used to trust him and follow his lead without questioning his motives; he'd taken that for granted and now look where it had got them.

"I don't know Gibbs. I mean I guess I trust you to watch my six out in the field; there's no-one I'd rather have watching my back. But you screwed us over; _you_ set us up with the whole war-game bullshit and withheld information from us. You didn't trust us…you didn't trust _me_; after eight years you'd think I'd earned at least that."

"Tony, I didn't keep it from you because I didn't trust you. Lee had already killed someone; I couldn't risk her suspecting something and killing one of my team…I couldn't risk you!" he ended firmly, trying to bring the point home to Tony.

"Did you think I was involved?" Tony demanded with an equally firm tone.

"No, of course not! I…"

"Did you not trust me to keep a secret?"

"Tony, of course I trust you; you wouldn't be on the team if I didn't. I chose _you_ as my Senior Field Agent, I left _you_ in charge of the team…I let you stay at my house for Christ's sake!" He rarely let anyone sleep there; there were too many memories of Shannon and Kelly that he didn't want people to intrude on.

"Then why couldn't you trust me with it? Why did you play me? You treated me and the rest of the team in exactly the same way that you treated Lee; you kept us all in the dark, pulling on our strings. I've done so many undercover operations Gibbs; hell, I did the Grenouille op. when I was trying to lead a team and no-one knew, not Jeanne, not René and not the team. I can keep secrets; I could have handled it!"

"Why didn't you tell me about _your_ undercover assignment? You lied to me about that, you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth, but you don't see me quitting do you. People keep secrets Tony."

"But that was _need to know_," Tony stressed the difference. "I _wanted_ to tell you…it was _killing_ me having to hide that whole mess from you. But you were in Mexico for four months Gibbs. You never phoned me and let me know where you were, you gave Abs a number for a phone-box which she wasn't even supposed to share with us unless it was an emergency…you didn't _want_ us getting in touch. So how the hell could I have told you then?

"Then you come back, and just…you treated me like crap Gibbs! You made it _very_ clear I wasn't going to get any answers and that I shouldn't ask you any questions. Was I supposed to tell you _then_? When you threw all my things onto my desk and acted like the last four months hadn't happened!

"I needed your advice when Jen first came to me with this op. but you weren't there. I had to hold a team together and look after a distraught Abs and an angry Ducky. On top of that I had to get used to all the new responsibilities that came along with being team-lead and there was no-one there to help me with that. I had to work cases and break in a new Probie. Then the Director comes to me and asks me to do an undercover op. to catch an arms-dealer. I didn't know it was some personal vendetta for her.

"You weren't there for any of that Gibbs! I didn't tell you because you weren't _there_, and when you were, you just didn't seem to give a crap!"

Tony's voice had steadily risen in volume and his eyes had become clouded with anger. He remembered the punch bag and how his hands became more bloodied and bruised as he allowed the anger to take hold; he needed to hit something now and release some of the pressure he'd tried to bury but he didn't think the doctors and nurses of Bethesda would appreciate it if he blew off some steam on one of their patients.

Gibbs sighed; he hadn't meant to get DiNozzo angry, especially not _this_ angry, but he also knew that he would have to push on with this conversation no matter what. He didn't think that he could live with himself if Tony _did_ leave and he hadn't done everything in his power to try and stop him from doing so.

He understood where Tony was coming from; he hadn't been around. When he was in Mexico he had purposefully left those in DC behind. He'd given Abby the number for a phone-box so that she could get in touch if there was an emergency, which came in the form of Ziva's potential arrest.

However, he had not tried to contact Tony and make sure he was ok and handling the team, partly because he trusted Tony and partly because he very much wanted _not_ to care. He hadn't even phoned Ducky and he had known the man for so many years.

His return to NCIS was abrupt and unannounced and Jen's words were coming back to haunt him; he _should_ have said something. DiNozzo was right; he hadn't checked up on his Senior Field Agent to make sure he was ok. He knew now that Tony had struggled with being Agent DiNozzo and Professor DiNardo; he knew that the younger man had all too easily given into his alter ego because on some level he wanted to be the easy-going, untroubled media professor and not the jaded, troubled agent he was fast becoming.

"I'm sorry that I didn't get in touch and that I wasn't there when you needed me. I can't change that, but I'm here now, trying to help." Gibbs confessed, his voice obtaining an almost desperate edge to it.

"I'm not angry that you didn't tell me about the Grenouille operation; that was Jen's job. When I came back, when I took over as team-lead again, she should have told me what she was doing with my agent. You're a damn good undercover agent Tony, and you're right, no-one knew, not even me. I'm sorry if I was a bastard when I came back from Mexico; I guess when I left I never thought I'd have to come back and I didn't really know how to handle it too well when I did. I'm sorry."

Tony still wasn't used to hearing those words; for too long had the rule _'never apologise; it's a sign of weakness' _been drilled into him. However, it was because of this rule that Tony knew just how sincere Gibbs was being.

"I'm also sorry that I didn't tell you about the whole DOMINO thing. Whether you believe me or not, it wasn't because I didn't trust you. I _do_ trust you Tony; I wouldn't have kept you as my Senior Field Agent for nearly eight years if I didn't."

"You played me Gibbs; you pulled my strings just like Jen did with the whole Benoit thing, and look how that turned out," Tony stated quietly. This was the crux of the matter; he'd been manipulated by a man who he had nothing but respect for. Jen's own manipulations had ended with disaster and death and a massive loss of trust in the higher echelons of NCIS leadership. Gibbs' actions had caused Tony to question much about himself and his position on the team.

"Tony, I…"

"No," Tony interrupted. Thinking about what Gibbs had done and what Jen had done, he could feel his anger that he had shoved deep down inside bubble to the surface.

"Don't try to tell me that it's not important or that you didn't mean it; you _did_ mean it Gibbs…you made a conscious decision. Just like you did when you stormed off to Mexico because you didn't get your own way! Just like you did when you came back without a word to anyone! Just like you did when you stood by and did nothing while Jen and La Grenouille continually fucked me over! Just like you did when you stood by and let Vance destroy our team!"

"That's unfair," interjected Gibbs, his own anger coming to the surface. "I fought to keep the team together, and when that didn't work I sure as hell fought to get us all back together. I went to Mexico because the higher ups refused to listen to me and people died because of it, and I didn't know about the undercover operation until it was already too late. What…"

"You didn't know about it because you weren't there, because you didn't care enough to ask. When I wasn't with Jeanne and pretending to be a media professor, Jen had me doing surveillance and intelligence gathering. For the four months that you were lying on a beach in Mexico and during all those months after you came back I was working non-stop.

"I was exhausted and confused and completely emotionally fucked! You've worked alongside me for _eight years_ and you never miss _anything_ about _anyone_, but you didn't give enough of a crap to ask what was going on!"

"So if I was awful to you, such a bastard, why the hell didn't you just go instead of hanging around all this time? Why give two weeks notice instead of just walking out the door?" Gibbs shouted, frustration over-riding any common sense that would require him to handle this situation with more delicacy.

"Because I didn't want to be like _you_! You just left Gibbs and you didn't give a crap about what or who you left behind! Well _I _do! You weren't there…you didn't see how your leaving like that and not staying in touch affected everyone. Abby was so upset Gibbs; it took _days_ just to get her to stop crying! And Ducky…he's one of your oldest friends Gibbs, and what you did almost ruined all of that. I've never seen Ducky that angry with anyone!

"I don't know how most people see me but I know a lot of agents round here find me over-bearing and childish and…" he shook his head not wanting to continue, but he knew he had to. "I don't even know how _you_ feel about me, especially after all this crap, and I've worked with you for eight years! Well I _know_ that Abby and Ducky and Jimmy give a damn; I know that and I _value_ it and I was not going to throw all of that away by storming off out the door because I was too angry to listen to reason!"

Gibbs was quiet, trying to digest his Senior Field Agent's words as well as his anger. He knew when he came back that Ducky had been pissed off with him; the cold shoulder wasn't hard to miss. The rest of the team, however, appeared to be fine. He knew Abby would have been upset, but she was a strong woman and he knew she would be fine. Wouldn't she?

God…he _really_ was a bastard!

Tony was right; he _had_ just left these people. He left them and then he came back without a word to anyone about his decisions both times. Abby was much too forgiving to hold a grudge against him, but Ducky…the M.E. was one of his oldest, most steadfast friends, and he'd ignored him for four months because he was pissed off about a decision made by the higher echelons of NCIS.

"What about if I leave…would you stay then? You could take control of the team, stay in DC…"

He was interrupted by Tony, who leant over and, for the first time that he could ever remember, gave his boss a head-slap. Gibbs was too surprised to direct his infamous glare at his Senior Field Agent and, by the look of things, DiNozzo was too surprised himself to have registered anything that his boss might have done.

"You want to explain that?" Gibbs asked, his voice full of curiosity rather than anger.

"You can't leave Gibbs, you _are_ NCIS. The team need you!" Tony said firmly.

"They need you too," Gibbs insisted just as firmly.

"No, they need a good investigator, a good Senior Field Agent; there are a few of them out there," Tony said with a wry grin.

"Not like you though."

"Besides," Tony continued, ignoring the compliment that he didn't know how to respond to anyway, "You leaving NCIS wouldn't solve anything. I still don't trust Vance and I'm pretty sure he doesn't trust me."

"He seems pretty set on getting you to stay; seems like he could trust you," Gibbs suggested.

"Vance wants to keep me for two reasons; one, to keep _you_ happy and two, because he has _finally_ recognised that I'm a good agent. However, just because he thinks I might hold some worth for NCIS that does not mean that he trusts me!"

"Maybe not," Gibbs agreed. He knew that Tony would not accept any platitudes and would not believe them anyway. "That doesn't mean it won't come. When Morrow first became Director we had plenty of clashes and Jen came to trust you with her own personal mess once she got to know you."

"No, she didn't trust me otherwise she would have told me about the connection between Benoit and her father."

"She didn't trust _anyone_ with that because she knew that the way she was going about trying to get her revenge was wrong; that had nothing to do with how much she trusted you, she was just trying to cover her own ass," Gibbs stressed, trying to make Tony see that respect and trust could be earned, despite his previous experiences with Jen.

Tony could see the sense in what Gibbs was saying, but he couldn't ever see Vance placing any amount of trust in him.

"Tony," Gibbs said quietly and waited until he had the full attention of his Senior Field Agent; "Why are you leaving? Give it to me in bullet points and let me try to help."

Tony frowned; he'd never heard Gibbs sound so desperate.

"I don't know that I can put it into bullet points. I know that I'm angry and some of my reasons make me sound like a pouting child, but…it's just that everything seems like it's been building up to this, it's getting to be too much."

"Like what? Talk to me Tony, I can't help if I don't know what's going on with you," Gibbs pointed out, eager for Tony to lay it all out for him. He wasn't sure words would be enough this time but he had to try; he'd never forgive himself if he let Tony slip out of the back door. "Start right at the beginning; everything that has ever got to you."

"That's eight years Boss," Tony said, a small smile creeping across his face.

"I know," Gibbs hesitantly returned the smile.

"I've no problem with the early years; I was out of the PD and more importantly out of the Precinct in Baltimore and away from my old partner. I didn't much like Blackadder but I liked working together…just you and me. I learned a lot and I pissed everyone off who had put money into that pool going against me," he smiled at this.

Gibbs laughed at this. He was aware when he brought the Homicide Detective back from Baltimore that there would be speculation; Gibbs didn't have a great record at keeping a team together for long and he was infamous for not getting on with local LEO's.

Tony was young and he dressed well for someone on his salary. His methods were unorthodox and his behaviour could be juvenile. He had no military training except for a short stint in a military school. He lacked the discipline that Drill Instructors had implanted in Gibbs and many of the others under NCIS' employ, and DiNozzo seemed to be more prone to questioning authority than following it.

Impressions were made and many in the Agency thought that one Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was a spoilt frat boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth. They saw his antics and not his abilities; they saw his past record and not his potential. Many people had placed money on just how long this kid would last under the ever watchful eyes of the very Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

They all lost; all, that is, except for one man. Ducky had taken to the new agent immediately and had even made a few unwanted comparisons between Gibbs and Tony. He saw what Gibbs saw and knew that, despite his quick temper and his reputation as a bastard, the team leader would fight to keep someone so well qualified and so dedicated as DiNozzo.

With some careful handling and some one-on-one tutelage he had helped to shape Tony into an even better investigator than he already was. Those first few months and his actions in Baltimore had brought about Tony's unwavering loyalty to him, a loyalty that he hoped he hadn't lost.

"I liked working with Kate," Tony continued. "Sure we had a few quarrels but that's normal. I don't think she ever really understood me, I'm not even sure she liked me, but I knew where we stood. I knew she trusted me out in the field and in the office. She _let_ me watch her six, whereas I'm not sure Ziva ever will.

"When I got the Plague, she stayed with me, lied to me to keep me fighting. That was one hell of a risk, and though I never got to tell her, one I needed and appreciated.

"When she died, _how_ she died…that was hard, but there's nothing anyone can ever do about that. You trusted me _then_; you trusted me to help you find Haswari, consequences be damned."

"I _still_ trust you Tony," Gibbs insisted firmly but quietly. So far Tony had painted a pretty good picture of his time at NCIS despite the problems. He knew they were getting close to where the problems started.

"Then you got blown up," Tony continued, ignoring Gibbs' compliment once again. "We weren't sure how you'd recover, _if_ you'd recover…then all of a sudden you're awake and you can't remember everything. Then that ship blew up and you left; no matter how hard I try there's no way I can reconcile your actions with the man I thought I knew.

"You left with nothing but a simple _'you'll do.'_ You left and you never contacted me…anyone! I needed your help Gibbs; I needed the man that came to Baltimore and helped me through all that crap; I needed the man who stood by my side, fighting my corner against the brass back when I was a detective.

"Taking charge would have been hard enough if the team had been willing to listen to me, had actually respected me. Regardless, I did my job; I held the team together and we did the investigations."

"You did a good job too," Gibbs interjected. "I should have told you that a long time ago, and I'm sorry I didn't. The case-closure rate never fell when you took over, and that's a hell of an achievement for your first stint as a team-leader."

Tony looked up at his boss and saw the sincerity in the man's eyes. He felt a slight elation at hearing those words from Gibbs; he had waited so long for some kind of recognition, for a sign that he had done well and that he hadn't messed up as badly as he usually felt he did.

"Then Jen came and asked me to do a few undercover operations. After a while, they all came together to form some background information for René Benoit, or La Grenouille. I should never have agreed. If only I'd known where it was going to lead…

"I needed your advice then more than ever, but you weren't there and Abby was _so_ upset and Ducky was _so_ angry and McGee and Ziva were so intent on questioning _everything_ I did or asked them to do that they would have been of no help whatsoever. If only I'd know how it was all going to end, what it would do to me, to Jeanne…"

"Despite what you may sometimes tell us, you are not a god Tony; you don't…you _can't_ know everything."

"You always seem to," Tony added quietly, his tone wistful rather than petulant.

"If that was true do you really think we'd be here…in this mess?" Gibbs gave Tony a pointed look. He needed his agent to understand that he was wanted, and not just by Abby and Ducky and Palmer, but by his team-mates, by his boss!

"I don't know," Tony admitted. He looked up at Gibbs with the question written clearly in his eyes.

"Tony, if I knew this would happen, if I knew that we…that _I_ might lose you from this team, I would do everything in my power to stop that."

Tony nodded; he could see the honesty in the older man's eyes and accepted that Gibbs wanted him to stay; in spite of all the problems that they had gone through his boss still wanted him on his team, as his Senior Field Agent.

"I can't change anything about the undercover assignments," Gibbs continued. "I wish I could! I _won't_ apologise for going to Mexico; I was too angry at the decisions made, decisions that had terrible consequences for so many sailors. If I had stayed, I would probably have torn this Agency to shreds I was so angry.

"However, _how_ I left and _how_ I came back…those are actions I _do_ regret. I knew people might be a little upset with my decision," he ignored Tony's inelegant snort; "But I guess I never suspected how much it might affect certain people. I won't deny that I wasn't wholly together after the bomb, but I should have known what my leaving would do to the team.

"Ducky is one of my oldest friends and I doubt you'll ever know just how ashamed I am about my behaviour towards him. The blast didn't help me any but I can't use that as an excuse; I should have called him, talked to him.

"Abby is fortunately very forgiving, more so than I deserve, and I can't help but be thankful for it. I'm sorry I left you to hold them together; I know it can't have been easy.

"Ziva and McGee should have treated you with respect and I'm disappointed that they didn't; I left you in charge of the team because I knew that you could do it. Jen thought you were an excellent team-leader; she wouldn't have offered you the Rota position otherwise. You're a good agent Tony, and you've proved yourself a very capable team-leader; I would never have left you in charge if I didn't think you could handle it."

"But when you came back…" Tony started hesitantly, unsure of how to continue. Luckily Gibbs interrupted.

"I know, and all I can do is apologise; I was a bastard! Jen warned me about it but I didn't listen; I _couldn't_ listen! I didn't want to face what had happened before I had left. I didn't want to face the fact that I _couldn't_ leave NCIS because it was far too much a part of who I am. I was…" he couldn't find the right words.

"You were trying to protect yourself," Tony guessed. He understood that; he might enjoy playing the part of the fool but he enjoyed the protection it afforded even more. Gibbs' stern demeanour was a lot less fun to play but equally as effective at making people think twice before getting too close.

Gibbs smiled; he was glad that Tony understood and hoped that it might make things easier. "Part of it was protection and part of it was pride; I can only ask for your forgiveness in that." He watched his Senior Field Agent with a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.

He hadn't talked about Mexico and its consequences with anyone, even Ducky. If opening up and talking about it with Tony created the possibility of him staying then he had to do it.

"Like I said, I can't and won't apologise for going to Mexico but I am sorry that I wasn't there to protect you from Jen. She knew I would never have let her do it and when I left I gave her the perfect opportunity to do whatever she wanted. She should never have got you involved in her personal vendetta in the first place and she sure as hell should have pulled you out once she suspected you were getting too emotionally invested."

"That was my fault," admitted Tony. "She asked me if I was getting too involved and I lied and told her only in the case."

"Tony, you're an excellent undercover agent, but everyone knew that whoever the woman was that you were spending all your time with, she meant a lot to you. Jen _knew_ that you were getting emotionally involved and she _chose_ to ignore it because she was so desperate to get her hands on La Grenouille.

"The blame for that doesn't lie with you or me; it rests solely on Jen's shoulders. The fact that you let yourself fall in love with Jeanne caused problems, of course it did. It's easy to say that it could have been avoided or that it was a stupid mistake, but Jeanne is not her father; you spent a lot of time in the company of a beautiful, intelligent woman and you fell in love. It is not an uncommon tale in undercover operations of that nature."

"I still feel guilty," Tony confessed quietly. He could see that Gibbs was being honest and not just spouting meaningless platitudes, and he respected him for it. He knew that he would be spending a lot of time with Jeanne and he knew why he was with her in the first place, but despite all of that he still fell in love with her; he's not sure how he could ever have avoided it.

If he had turned down the operation then he would never have met her and he could have spared her all that pain, but the very thought of never having known her made his chest ache the same way it did when she left him with nothing but a hateful, accusing glare.

"That's only natural Tony. I feel guilty that I was away on tour when Shannon and Kelly were killed. I'm not the one that killed them and I know that if I had been there I would have done everything in my power to protect them, but I still feel guilty."

"Guilt's stupid," Tony surmised unhappily.

Gibbs let out a small chuckle, he whole-heartedly agreed with DiNozzo's sentiments. "Yes it is, and it will always leave some vestige in your heart, but you learn to live with it. Do you still feel guilty about Jen's death?" he already knew that the younger man did, but he wanted to get him to talk about it.

Ducky had once told him that the key to dealing with DiNozzo in situations like this was to be patient, wait for him to open up and talk and to give the man enough time and silence to digest everything. He had all too often ignored the M.E.'s advice in regards to Tony, but this time he knew that his own gruff manner would not work. Tony needed the truth and he needed to realise his own worth, through his own eyes and through those of his team-mates.

"I…yeah, I do," Tony admitted, not quite able to look into his mentor's eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I was on the protection detail when she died. Because I didn't listen to Ziva's worries. Because I ignored my own gut-feeling that something bad was going to happen. Because I let my own emotions get the better of me. Because I should have been there!"

"Why didn't you go?" Gibbs asked, careful to keep his tone neutral to make sure Tony knew he wasn't accusing him.

"I didn't want to go find her because I didn't want to get involved in another one of her personal issues. I let her get me involved in one of her personal vendettas last time and it nearly destroyed me; I lost the girl of my dreams and got a broken heart, I lost a lot of trust in myself and in the Agency and I nearly got a murder charge to boot. I wasn't in any hurry to get dragged back down by her."

"I don't blame you," Gibbs stated firmly, meeting the surprised eyes of his agent. "I don't blame you for your hesitance and I don't blame you for her death. In fact, I'm glad you weren't there. Jen was my old partner, but she had changed and not for the better. You're my current partner and I hate to think what it would have done to me if I'd had to go to your funeral too."

Tony was shocked at these words. He knew Gibbs valued him as an agent; the man wouldn't put up with all his crap if he didn't, but he would never have suspected that Gibbs felt this strongly. Although he was normally partnered up with Ziva, the beginning of his NCIS career saw him working solo with Gibbs and because of that he still thought of the man as both his boss and his partner. He never thought Gibbs might see him as _his_ partner!

"You do know that when Vance sent you away as Agent Afloat he wasn't doing it to punish you, don't you?" Gibbs spoke it more as a statement rather than a question, wanting Tony to understand it as the truth and not a platitude to appease him.

"I didn't and I'm not entirely sure that that is the case…"

"It is," Gibbs interrupted. "I asked and he answered; I believe him." He hoped that was enough to convince Tony; there was a stage when his word working alongside his gut-feelings would have been enough for the younger man, but Gibbs wasn't so sure now.

"I can't deny that I was pissed off, and I thought you didn't fight it because you blamed me for Jen's death…"

"I did fight it Tony!" the older man insisted, desperate for Tony to realise just how hard he had fought to get his team reunited, to get Tony back on dry land and in DC. "I might have done it behind closed doors but I did fight it. Vance was a relatively unknown variable and I wasn't sure how to play it but I did know that he would not have accepted such blatant disregard for his position by making demands in front of the team."

"'_Demands'_ huh?" Tony asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

Gibbs returned the grin with a wicked glint in his eye. "Enjoy it while you can, DiNozzo; I won't always be this nice and cuddly."

"_Cuddly_!" Tony snorted, all sorts of bizarre mental images flashing through his mind.

Gibbs let the comment hang in the air for a while, happy to see a smile on his agent's face but all too aware that the conversation needed to be concluded.

"I fought like hell to get you back, DiNozzo; please believe that," Gibbs asked earnestly.

"I do," Tony agreed quickly. Despite his hasty answer he realised it was the truth; Gibbs might be the expert but he too, knew when he was being lied to. There were no obvious signs of deception, no eyes looking down and to the left, no nervous fidgeting or unusual behaviour. There was only absolute sincerity in the older man's eyes.

"I do," Tony said again with less speed and more conviction.

Gibbs let out a relieved breath.

"Good. Now as I said, I fought like hell to get you back and I wasn't going to risk your life with the whole DOMINO fiasco. I didn't know who else might have been involved, if anyone was listening to our conversations with bugs planted in the office or at home, if anyone was tracing our phone-calls. All that was unlikely, but we didn't know.

"I was worried that if I didn't make the right play Lee would kill again and I couldn't risk losing you and Ziva and McGee again, especially not when this time it could have been permanent. It was never about trust Tony; it was about me trying to protect the team, _my_ _people_, the only way I knew how.

"If I have lost your trust for that then I am sorry, but the consequences of you knowing could have been severe. I had to choose between potentially losing your trust or you potentially losing your life; they both might have only been potential outcomes but not ones I wanted to risk. I might not like the fact that you no longer feel like you can trust me but I couldn't handle being responsible for your death; I'd rather you were alive and hating me than dead."

"I don't hate you," Tony confessed quietly. "I _wanted_ to hate you; it would have made everything much easier…but I don't."

"Do you trust me?" Gibbs was glad that Tony didn't hate him, but he knew that if Tony were to stay he would need to trust him.

"I…I don't know," the Senior Field Agent shrugged his shoulders sadly. "I think I do…mostly. Like I know you'll always be there to watch my six, but…"

"But you don't know whether you can trust me with the rest of it?" Gibbs asked sadly. He was aware that he had dropped the ball, that like Jen, he too had chosen to ignore what the undercover operation had done to the younger agent. He had chosen to remain quiet at the diner rather than assure his insecure agent that he didn't blame him for Jen's death.

Tony looked up with Gibbs, sadness in his eyes, and nodded. Gibbs had always been his mentor; the two of them may not have hit it off straight away in Baltimore but once they decided to work side by side…

"I know I messed up Tony, and I don't know what I can do about it; I've never been very good at this sort of thing, but I want to be…if you'll let me. _Please_ stay Tony," Gibbs ended quietly, all too aware that he could demand nothing of the younger man but at the same time he wanted to let Tony know that everyone wanted him to stay.

"You're a damn good agent Tony, and a natural-born investigator, but that's not why everyone wants you to stay. When Ziva and McGee were back, but you were still Agent Afloat, you've no idea how odd the bull-pen felt…how _wrong_ it felt. We may _need_ you as a highly capable agent, but we _want_ you because of who you are to us.

"You're a big brother to Abby and to Jimmy too from what I've heard. You're a teacher and a friend to both Ziva and McGee. Ducky…he carves a very grandfatherly image for most people, but you hold a special place in his heart. As for me…well I don't really know what you mean to me. Putting my own emotions into words is a little harder than doing it for everyone else. What I do know is that you mean a whole hell of a lot.

"When I found out that everyone was trying to pilfer you for their own teams…well, let's just say that there are certain team-leads back at NCIS who are going to have an interesting time of things when I get out of here. You belong on this team Tony; you're family."

Tony didn't know what to say. Gibbs had called him _'family.'_ Stern, _'second B for bastard'_ Gibbs had called him _'family!'_

Gibbs looked at his Senior Field Agent and knew that the younger man would need time to digest all of this information and the deal with the emotions that came with it. Gibbs had said all he could say and promised to do whatever necessary to try and keep DiNozzo in DC and on his team.

Now he had to wait for Tony to make his final decision.

"Go home and think things over Tony, please. That was an intense conversation and between that and the physio I'm almost wiped out, but I meant every word."

"You do know that it's not just to do with you and the team, right? I mean, I've messed up too and they were some pretty big mistakes."

"Every one of us has made mistakes. Unfortunately in our line of work the consequences tend to be a little bit more dramatic than most. The mistakes are something that you need to come to terms with in your own time in your own way, whether you stay here at NCIS, move onto some other agency, or something entirely different."

Tony nodded; he had a lot to think about. "You know if you actually opened your mouth and talked more often, you'd make a pretty good shrink."

Gibbs tried to smoother a laugh, leaned over and swiped at his Senior Field Agent's head. "You talk plenty for us both, DiNozzo."

Tony caught the mischievous glint in his Boss' eyes and returned the look; "Well I had to pick up the slack…and there was a lot of it in the conversational department." He stood up slowly, careful of his own recent injuries. "I'll be back tomorrow, bring you some more coffee," Tony promised.

Gibbs nodded and smiled his approval. "If you need anymore time, let me know; I'll understand."

"I know you will," Tony nodded. With what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he left the hospital to return home; he had a lot of thinking to do.

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_**There, you go, finally this chapter is done. Please let me know what you think and thank you all for being so patient with me in getting this one out.**_

_**I know Gibbs is a little OOC in this chapter, but he was supposed to be. He had to let go of his pride and his no-nonsense demeanour in order to get through to Tony. Hope I haven't taken it too far out of context.**_

_**Next up - Tony needs to think things over, Gibbs tries to get himself out of hospital and we find out why Jimmy has been trying to avoid Tony.**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and alerted and messaged and whatnot, and thanks for being so patient.**_

_**Both Tony and Gibbs do some thinking and Tony gets yet another offer.**_

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_**FOUR DAYS TO GO**_

Tony had tried to sleep that night, he really had. The case was over and although he had slept a solid twelve hours the night before he could still feel the physical exhaustion gnawing at his bones. The mental exhaustion was something that remained unaddressed.

He had appreciated the one-on-one time with Ziva and McGee; they had cleared the air and sorted through various issues between them. Whether he chose to stay or not, there would always be some kind of friction within any team; Tony had always known that it was impossible for people, who spent so much time together in a confined space facing tense situations, to always get along.

However, during their talk they had by-passed the teasing and the constant one-upmanship that occurred daily; these were more often than not events that he would instigate and certainly enjoyed taking part in.

It was the much more important issues of respect and trust that were addressed and, from what he could tell, had been resolved. He now felt more confident in the knowledge that his team-mates respected and trusted him, both professionally and personally; both Ziva and McGee had been prepared to open up to him to prove it.

McGee would always be _'Probie'_ in his mind, but the Junior Agent was his own man now who recognised his talents, although Tony usually tried to tune him out when the conversation turned to his talent of computers and technology. The revelation that the younger man was sometimes jealous of _him_ was a shocking one.

Since Vance had come to sit in the Director's seat, the man had clearly let it be known how much he valued agents of McGee's calibre. Tony's own confidence had understandably taken a bit of a knocking at the not-so-subtle cracks at his own skills; he had thought McGee's would soar. Evidently not! It seemed for all their differences, they certainly shared one trait; Gibbs' opinion came before anyone else's, including the Director's!

Ziva opening up had been the real shocker; she was almost as taciturn as their fearless leader. Although he would always silently see himself as Gibbs' partner due to their early years working together, he knew that Ziva was his real partner in the field; to hear from her own mouth that she does trust him was an immense relief.

However, Ziva's job with Mossad, by its very nature, meant that she should never truly trust anyone beyond the face in the mirror. He knows that should he stay, any trust between them will be put to the test, and he's not convinced the outcome will be positive for anyone involved.

His conversation with Gibbs had an entirely different tone to the one he shared with his team-mates only hours before. Whereas the one at lunch had been about moving on from past mistakes and reaching a new understanding, the conversation with Gibbs was all about whether or not there was anything to move on to!

The talk had taken a lot out of Tony; the sincerity in Gibbs' voice was almost too much to take and the words coming out of his boss' mouth certainly were. He'd spent eight years working alongside his monosyllabic boss, and rarely had the man ever shown so much emotion in one sitting…to him at any rate.

They'd talked about the recent fiasco with Lee and the whole DOMINO affair. Gibbs had tried to draw comparisons to Tony's own duplicitous behaviour during the Grenouille operation, and as much as Tony appreciated the fact that Gibbs was trying to explain himself, he was not prepared to believe in any similarities.

_Need to know _and _not_ knowing because someone _'didn't have to'_ tell you were two very different reasons. With the DOMINO mess, he desperately wanted to believe that Gibbs had kept it from him to keep him and the others safe, but he doubted it; the older man sometimes had a real Machiavellian streak running through him.

With the Grenouille op…well…

He had been beyond desperate back then; he had wanted nothing more than to talk to Gibbs and to try to figure out the right path, figure out if he was going to miss being Professor DiNardo and whether he could survive as Agent DiNozzo without Jeanne. However, the man hadn't been there and when his boss finally returned the air between them was cloudy and unsettled, leaving no room for any in-depth conversations.

The only similarity that he could see was that both cases involved some personal vendetta. Jen had used the Grenouille operation to chase after an arms dealer, René Benoit, a man she believed killed her father. Gibbs had been so determined in catching Lee to avenge Langer's death. Both of them had used Tony to achieve their goals without him knowing the full facts about the whys.

However, Gibbs had broken his infamous rule…_'never apologise; it's a sign of weakness.'_ Well that rule went well and truly out of the window; he been too stunned to count just how many times the '_s'_ word was actually used, but he was sure it was a lot.

Gibbs had said that he wished he could have stopped Jen from getting Tony involved in her personal vendetta, but Tony's all too aware that wishes rarely came true and that the past can't be undone. Of course, the words might have meant more if Gibbs hadn't used Tony for his own little vendetta.

Gibbs had explained that he didn't blame Tony for Jen's death or for his hesitance in trying to find her in LA whilst she was off on another of her own personal missions. However, surely his lack of faith in her then relates to his lack of trust in Gibbs now? He'd lost his faith in both of them because they had used him, but Gibbs seemed to want a different outcome…Gibbs wanted him to stay! How was it ok to not trust Jen, but ok to still trust Gibbs?

The whole issue was giving him a headache just thinking about it.

He needed to bounce ideas off someone, and he knew just who to go to. Ducky was almost always the voice of reason, the calm in the storm that everyone relied so heavily upon without ever realising it.

He had to go to NCIS anyway, finish up the paperwork and hand in the finished case files to Vance. A nice cup of tea down in autopsy could be just what he needed. Maybe he'd even see Jimmy who seemed to be trying to avoid him.

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Gibbs' morning had been a quiet one, thankfully. He too had been trying to digest the conversation he shared with Tony the day before.

He knew he'd dropped the ball somewhere along the way; the moment he saw Tony's resignation he knew that he had messed up. Tony reminded him of a St. Bernard, one of the mountain rescue ones with a barrel of whiskey around the neck; loyal to a fault and with a huge heart. Tony really would follow you up a freezing-cold mountain to make sure you got down alright; he'd certainly dive into freezing-cold water and rescue you from a sinking car.

Many had thought Tony had blind faith in Gibbs, but the team-leader knew better. Tony's faith wasn't blind; he knew about Gibbs and about his flaws but he trusted him despite all of that, which made his faith and his loyalty all the more remarkable.

Undoubtedly events in Baltimore had helped to create a strong bond of loyalty between the two; Gibbs had always thought Tony knew that the bond went both ways but recent events had proved him wrong. Hopefully it wasn't too late to rectify that.

He'd said all he could say in an attempt to keep Tony at NCIS and on his team; the rest was up to his Senior Field Agent to figure out. He hoped it had been enough. Being stuck in a hospital bed all day had given him too much time to think; every conclusion he reached centred on Tony and how NCIS would be a different place without him and never once was it a place that Gibbs wanted to imagine.

While he had certainly given Tony plenty to think about, the younger man had, in turn, given Gibbs plenty to consider too.

When he came back from Mexico, he had recognised Abby's too tight hugs and Ducky's resentment. He'd noticed these things and eventually his time back at NCIS had helped diminish them, but he'd never really addressed the consequences of his _'retirement;'_ not on Abby and Ducky, not on the team, and certainly not on Tony.

His Senior Field Agent's anger last night had been so strong, _still_ so fresh that it was hard to believe it had happened so long ago.

The past could not be undone so there was no point in wishing for it but, after hearing the almost visceral anger from Tony about the consequences of his departure, he was greatly saddened to know that he could never change it.

Although he was obviously unaware of the consequences, unaware that Jen had been waiting for an opportunity to strike Benoit, he cannot help but feel as though he should have seen it coming. Jen had changed; he knew that the first time he saw her sitting in the Director's chair. He couldn't reconcile the image of the woman behind the desk with the woman he'd worked on assignment with in Paris and Moscow.

She had used Tony and the disastrous results of the Grenouille operation had devastated the younger man. Had he done the same with DOMINO? He hoped not. At least there wasn't a woman involved this time; he wasn't sure Tony would have been able to handle another heartbreak on top of everything else.

Hopefully, Tony had understood what Gibbs had been trying to tell him…that he couldn't risk anyone on his team when Lee was an unknown variable. Losing Langer and thinking he had turned traitor had been hard, finding out that Langer had been innocent and murdered by a fellow agent had been even more difficult.

The very idea of having to put a photo of Tony next to Langer's ID in that cop-bar was almost too hard to bear. He didn't really know how to describe his relationship with Tony; the two had known each other for so long and been through so much together. For him, all that mattered was that Tony was family.

People always talk about blood being family but Gibbs had never followed that belief. When he had been in the Marines he looked upon most of his fellow jarheads as merely soldiers in arms, but some of them he thought of as family; they became his _brothers_ in arms. Once he had lost Kelly and Shannon, those _'brothers'_ from his former unit were all that he had left from that period of his life.

He saw them too rarely these days and he never wanted to imagine a period where he saw Tony maybe once every other year if he was lucky. He needed Tony on his team; the younger man balanced him out, understood him in a way his other agents never would and together they made a formidable team. When had that stopped being important to him, Gibbs wondered.

He had fought hard to get Tony transferred from Baltimore PD and he had fought even harder to get him back from being Agent Afloat. The fight to keep Tony wasn't one he was prepared to lose.

A knock at his door brought him out of his reverie; he hadn't expected Tony so soon. He glanced up and saw that it wasn't Tony, in fact it was no-one he would have expected.

"Come on in Palmer," he offered quietly, masking his surprise.

Jimmy shuffled through the door, still slightly nervous of the man despite the fact that he appeared bed-ridden.

"Agent Gibbs," he nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine thanks Palmer. Anything I can help you with?" Gibbs was straight to business, as usual.

"It's just…I know no-one really knows if Tony's staying or going or anything, but I've been trying to arrange a meal with everyone at Mama Sorrentinos. If he stays then it can be a celebration and if he decides…well, if he's not going to stay, it could be a sort of farewell party." Jimmy was feeling unquestionably stupid; he was an intelligent man, he goes to Med School for Christ's sake, but place him in front of a man as intimidating as Agent Gibbs and he can barely string a coherent sentence together.

He wasn't sure whether Gibbs would like the idea of a team meal at Sorrentino's or whether he would think it was ridiculous and over the top. You never could tell with the man!

Gibbs tried to hide a smile; he had no idea why Palmer was still so nervous around him. Tony was sure to have told him that his boss' bark is worse than his bite and the young man's mentor, Ducky, remained unfazed by Gibbs' mood imbalances. However, Palmer's idea was a good one and well thought out; no-one could get away with mothering Tony quite like the vivacious restaurant owner.

"That's a good idea Palmer. When are you thinking of having it?"

"Well, I was going to have it on the very last night but then I thought that might not be the right time to do it…that maybe Tony should decide what to do on his last night. So then I decided on the day before the last day. Then I realised that if you were going to come I should probably find out whether or not your doctor will let you…" Jimmy trailed off as he saw Gibbs raise an eyebrow; of course Gibbs wouldn't tolerate a doctor telling him what he was allowed to do.

Gibbs had indeed raised his eyebrow at the thought of some doctor telling him what he was and was not allowed to do, but he also knew that Jimmy had made a conscientious decision to include him in the meal and he didn't want to insult the young man for his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you Jimmy, I'll talk to my doctor as soon as I see him and I'll let you know."

"Oh, good, thank you Agent Gibbs. Mama Sorrentino agreed to leave it wide-open for now. I brought you a coffee…black, no sugar; thought you might want one in here." Jimmy handed over the coffee and took a step back. "I've got to get back; we've got a body to autopsy for Reyes' team and Dr. Mallard wanted my help. I'll talk to you soon Agent Gibbs, bye!"

Gibbs tried to smother a laugh as he watched Palmer run out of the room; he didn't miss the way the young man's shoulders sagged with relief the moment he left the room. Sometimes, he thought his _'second 'b' for bastard'_ reputation went to far…then he'd meet someone he didn't like and was more than keen to reaffirm that reputation.

He would talk to his doctor about getting out of here soon; he hated hospitals almost as much as his Senior Field Agent did. He would certainly get out for the meal at Sorrentino's, and if his doctor disagreed with him…tough shit! He'd sign himself out AMA if he had too; there's no way he will miss that meal.

He could walk, talk and breathe without any problems. He would bring about the Apocalypse before anyone kept him in a hospital bed!

_

* * *

_

Ducky was down in autopsy muttering over the body of yet another young Marine when Tony entered.

"Ah, good morning Anthony," Ducky greeted him warmly. "So sorry I couldn't come to lunch yesterday. Mother was being particularly difficult and when young Mr. Palmer offered his assistance…well I couldn't very well refuse now could i?"

"Uh huh Duck…sure," Tony said, clearly letting it be known that he knew exactly why Ducky hadn't attended the lunch the day before, and that reason had nothing to do with the man's eccentric mother.

Ducky said nothing but the slight twinkle in his eyes said it all. He had turned off his phone the previous day so that no-one would be able to get in touch with him; Gibbs was in the hospital so his 'never be out of reach' rule didn't much matter. When he had turned his phone back on in the morning he had two messages, one from Timothy and one from Ziva, both thanking him for their time alone with Tony.

Evidently, no-one had been fooled; he imagined Abby's excuse had withstood scrutiny wither. However, if any issues had been resolved then the small measure of deceit on their part was worth it.

"So things went well yesterday, I assume."

"Yeah, they did. Thanks Ducky; I know you and the others were giving us some time alone to talk things out. I appreciated it, I think we all did."

"Well," said Ducky as he started cracking the young Marine's ribs, "You haven't had very much time to yourself these past few days have you my lad."

"No," Tony agreed, eyes fixed on the sight of the M.E. exposing a man's inside. "No, and I know that's why you did it, so thanks. We talked for a long time and we've made peace I think. Which, no matter what happens in the end, I had always wanted."

Ducky took great pleasure in the _'no matter what happens in the end'_ part of Tony's words. He had promised Gibbs that he would not try to interfere with Anthony's decision, knowing that the younger man might need someone relatively impartial to talk to and bounce ideas off. However, that phrase meant that Tony was rethinking his previous decision to leave.

"And how did your conversation go with Jethro? Equally as successful I hope."

Tony smiled; trust Ducky to know what had happened after the meal

"Where's Jimmy? I haven't seen him around in a while."

"I'm not sure," Ducky stated. "The lad was supposed to be here helping me with this autopsy."

"I think he's avoiding me Duck." Tony said despondently, Jimmy's absence only reaffirming him fears in his mind.

"Nonsense," replied Ducky. He knew that his assistant was rushing around trying to organise a big team meal for Tony's final days. He also knew that Jimmy had been avoiding Tony, not out of anger or sadness, but because he knew he could never keep a secret hidden from Tony and he wanted the meal to be a surprise.

"He's a good friend Duck; I always knew that if I left NCIS it would affect Jimmy, I just didn't think it would affect him this much!"

Ducky once again took pleasure in the 'if;' maybe Tony was having serious doubts…maybe, just maybe Jethro had found the words he needed to convince their friend that leaving wouldn't change the past and would only make his future more lonely.

"I remember Jethro thought the same thing when he went to Mexico," he finally spoke. "He didn't seem to think his resignation would have much of an impact on any of us. Good Lord, I certainly didn't think I'd be quite so angry!"

Tony's brows furrowed; Gibbs had said as much last night. Their fearless team leader had not thought about any of the consequences on leaving his team the way he did.

"Duck, Gibbs said that he didn't blame me for not trusting Jen back in LA," Tony started hesitantly.

"I know he doesn't," Ducky tried to reassure him.

"The reason I didn't trust her was because she lied to me…_used_ me! The results of me and Ziva not going to find her were…"

"Not your fault Anthony!" Ducky stated firmly. He might have agreed not to interfere with Tony's decision-making but he certainly wasn't about to let the younger man carry around any undeserved guilt.

"That's not what I was going to say." Everyone had told Tony the same thing and he really didn't want yet another repeat of that particular conversation. "It's just, Gibbs did the same thing…he lied to us and he used us. He told me that I had every right not to trust Jen; does that mean I shouldn't trust Gibbs either?"

"Anthony, Director Shepherd used you for her own personal crusade and it ended with heartbreak and very nearly your death!" Ducky pointed out firmly. "Gibbs was wrong, yes, and he knows that he let us down…you in particular. However, he at least meant well."

Tony took in the M.E.'s words. He knew what Ducky was saying; that Gibbs deserved another chance…that Gibbs wasn't Jen.

"Ducky, do you think I'm making a mistake? Do you think I should stay at NCIS?"

"I can't answer that Anthony. No-one but you can answer that. Do I want you to stay? Of course I do. Whether you should stay or not is something that only you can decide. You must decide whether you want to remain on with NCIS, on Jethro's team or on someone else's. You must decide if you will remain in Washington DC, or if you will even remain on the East coast.

"No-one can decide these things for you Anthony. You must follow your own heart and your own instincts. Jethro's gut may be infamous but your own gut feelings are just as valid.

"If you leave you will miss us, of course you will, or at least I _hope_ you will. But if you cannot trust the people on your team, and think that you will never be able to do so again then you are right to leave. Just make sure you are leaving for the right reasons."

Tony nodded. He understood what Ducky was telling him and was partially relieved that the man was offering his full support regardless of what he might decide. However, right now he almost wished that someone, anyone would tell him what to do with his life; it would simplify things a great deal!

_

* * *

_

Tony returned to the bull-pen and sat down at his desk. He had once again given McGee and Ziva the morning off, knowing that everyone had run themselves ragged trying to solve their case without Gibbs and with the full attention of the media.

The bull-pen seemed to be very empty and abnormally quiet. Tony took a quick look around; the room was pretty much empty. There were two agents stood by the water cooler and he could see one agent at his desk on the other side of the room. Must be a busy day for the Navy, he thought, for it to be so quiet.

He loaded up his computer and found the appropriate files on the Winters' case; he had a hell of a lot of paperwork to do…paperwork on the shootings, evaluations, requisitions, the documentation of evidence…everything that related to the case needed to be carefully documented.

"Agent DiNozzo, have you given any more thought to staying with us at NCIS?"

Tony looked up from his paperwork straight into the eyes of the Director; his mind must have been more preoccupied than he thought as he had never even noticed the Director, who was stood only inches away from his desk.

"Oh…no. Well, of course I've been thinking about it but I haven't really reached a conclusion." Tony still felt slightly uncomfortable around this man; he didn't like him and he didn't think that would ever change, but there was the slightest amount of respect slowly growing between them.

"I'd understand if you felt uncomfortable accepting one of the other team-lead's offers of working under them." Vance was never a man to beat around the bush; the man abhorred small-talk. "How would you feel if I gave you a team of your own, here in DC?"

Tony had to replay the words over in his head to make sure he had heard and understood the man correctly. "There are none available," he pointed out, not sure what else to say. This was never an offer he had expected from _this_ Director.

"No, there aren't," Vance agreed. "But there will be a position available next year. Agent Taylor will be retiring towards the end of next year. You would remain in DC with your current team-mates but you would also be taking a position that accurately reflects your capabilities."

"Director…I…I don't know what to say!" And he really didn't; even during some of his worst times he could usually muster up something, but this had completely blindsided him. Praise form this man was almost as expected as it was to see a line of elephants heading towards the Capitol Building.

"You don't have to say anything just yet, Agent DiNozzo; you have over a year to think about it and you will be the first person offered this spot when it opens up. You and I may never go to a bar and watch the Super Bowl together over a couple of beers, but I want what is best for this Agency. From what everyone tells me, you are one of the best.

"You have more options than you think you do Agent DiNozzo. Don't dismiss NCIS just yet; think about it at least." With that, Vance turned towards the stairs when Tony called for him.

"Director, I will think about it, I promise, but could we keep this quiet? Can we keep this just between us?"

Vance nodded, one eyebrow raised out with curiosity, but he asked no questions. "Of course we can, Agent DiNozzo. Your two weeks notice will reach its end in four days time; please let me know before that time is up whether or not you will remain with us here at NCIS."

Tony nodded to himself as the Director headed back towards his office; four days! Everyone that he valued had spoken to him, stated all the reasons why they thought he should stay at NCIS; even Vance had stepped up and asked his to carry on working with NCIS. Then there were the job offers.

There only two that he would even remotely consider. The FBI had the resources to do an effective job and their Major Crimes department tended to be a little busier and a lot more diverse than its NCIS counterpart. As much as he disliked Sacks, he had a growing respect for Fornell and working beneath him would not be too bad. Plus it would really piss off Agent 'Slacks.'

Alex Simmons had offered him a job and then advised him not to take it; he had told Tony that the slow pace of his rural community would bore him. However, there were times when a quieter life seemed more appealing. Granted these times tended to coincide with some of the more dramatic periods of his life, but sometimes it was the fact that his _everyday_ work included murder and mindless violence for the most ridiculously petty reasons.

Human nature was beginning to grate, and sometimes the idea of chasing a drunken farmer driving his tractor down the main street held far more appeal than dragging yet another body of a nineteen year-old petty officer out of a ditch.

He was talking himself in circles. Every time he thought he had reached a conclusion, decided that he should stay or that he should go, he would think of something else that would make him change his mind.

He needed to go home and ignore everyone for the night. He'd have to phone Gibbs, his Boss would understand if he didn't go and see him. Tony knew that the clock was still counting down, but he wasn't sure he could survive another four days of over-thinking and second-guessing himself. He needed to reach a decision, and he needed to reach one soon.

_

* * *

_

_**And finally, another chapter done! Thank you for being so patient; the story will be coming to a close very soon…one or two chapters left.**_

_**Please let me know what you think.**_

_**Next up – Does Tony reach a decision? How will the team react? Will Gibbs get released in time to go to Sorrentino's with the rest of them?**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and alerted and so on.**_

_**Gibbs gets an unexpected visitor and Tony has to make his choice.**_

_

* * *

_

_**THREE DAYS TO GO**_

Gibbs had fallen asleep before being able to talk to anyone the previous night. The drugs that were still being pumped through his system told him that the chances of him convincing any doctor to willingly sign him out of the hospital were slim to none. Not that it much mattered; he would be out of the hospital for Tony's meal at Sorrentino's and that was that.

However, having a doctor discharge you made everything much easier, especially when pertaining to an agent's return to the field.

The first thing he did upon waking in the morning was ask to see an attending. He doubted his doctor, who had seemed like a no-nonsense sort of person, would agree to discharge him. So Gibbs was laying impatiently in his room awaiting anyone in a white coat to enter his quiet hospital room.

When someone finally entered shortly before ten, it wasn't anyone he had been expecting.

"Dad?"

"Hello Leroy," Jackson Gibbs said from the doorway. Gibbs couldn't get a read on his father's face; the older man seemed both angry and sad at once.

"What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked, his confusion evident. During his time at NCIS he had visited the hospital as a patient more times than he would have liked; not once did his father visit him.

"Well, not because you called to tell me you got shot!" Jackson replied sharply.

Definitely some anger in there then!

"So how did you find out?" He wasn't going to acknowledge his father's comment; Jackson Gibbs hadn't been listed as his next of kin for a long time. As soon as he and Shannon became serious, her name took primary place on all paperwork. Once she died and he started working with NCIS, Mike Franks had taken over that position followed by Ducky.

"Why didn't you call? Why didn't you get someone else to call?" Jackson could play the avoidance game just as well as his son. "When you came home to Stillwater, you promised you would call. I have to find out from someone else that you nearly died!"

"I did not nearly die! And who called you?" He knew that it wasn't Ziva or McGee; neither one of them was brave enough to dig into his personal life so blatantly. Tony had the balls but he, of all people, would respect Gibbs' wishes; he had his own issues with hospitals and knew that his Boss did too. Abby and Ducky were the only ones he could think of who would be bold enough to think about calling his father and follow it through.

"You were bleeding internally Leroy; your lung was full of blood…you could have _drowned_ in your own blood! They put you on a ventilator and they are still pumping you full of drugs," Jackson said, gesturing to the IV stand and the tubes snaking around his arm.

"Well, I didn't drown, I can breathe on my own and I'll be out of here soon!" His own frustration was mounting now. He didn't need a lecture from his father; the man hadn't been a part of his life for so long and was only just now _slowly_ re-entering it…that didn't give him the freedom to try and dictate any aspect of his life.

"What do you mean you'll be out of here soon," Jackson asked incredulously. "You've still got that IV hooked into you. The nurses told me you've got a whole bunch of physical therapy to do, and don't think I haven't seen the oxygen mask by your bed."

"The mask is there for emergencies, you can do physical therapy as an out patient, an IV is easy enough to unhook and I have more important things that need seeing to."

Jackson could see the rising ire in his son's countenance but he didn't care, his boy needed to take proper care of himself. "What could be more important than your health?"

"My team," Gibbs said quietly; his anger quickly dissipated due to the serious nature of DiNozzo's looming resignation and the realisation that his father didn't yet know him well enough again to know just how much he valued his team. Mind you, Tony had been working with him eight years now and he didn't know either apparently.

Jackson knew he was missing something now.

When LJ introduced him to his team back in Stillwater he was slightly jealous of these people, people who knew his son better than he did. However, they had grown on him. He had spent most time with Ziva and Timothy; both seemed as dedicated to his son as they were to the job.

Abby, or _"The Hugster"_ as he called her, made a very distinct impression due to her clothes and her cheery, bubbly personality. The two of them called each other sporadically; he called her as a surreptitious means of checking in on his son and she called him normally to talk about the team and oddly about a bunch of bowling nuns.

Anthony had come to Stillwater but the two of them had only crossed paths for a couple of minutes; that was not enough time to get an accurate read on the man. Most of what he knew about Anthony came from Abby along with titbits about a man Abby continually refers to as Ducky.

During their latest phone-call, Abby had seemed more subdued than normal; she had blamed it on the long hours and he didn't doubt that she worked unbearable hours. It had taken a lot of gentle wheedling to get Abby to confess that LJ was in the hospital; no wonder the girl was upset, she seemed to adore his stoic son.

Once he learnt of his son's injury everything else had flown out of the window, especially once he learnt that the shooting had happened over a week ago. He'd tried to avoid shouting at Abby for not calling him as soon as it had happened; he might not yet know the team well but he knew that the black-clad girl would do anything for Leroy.

During that last call Abby had never once mentioned anything else was amiss with his son's team. He began to wonder just how much of their conversation was filtered.

"What's going on Leroy?" he asked quietly, no sign of his previous anger present in his voice.

"Tony wants to resign," Gibbs said bluntly. "Hell, he's already resigned; he's finishing up his two weeks notice."

He had heard a lot about Tony from Abby, but nothing from Leroy. In fact, his son's manner towards him back in Stillwater seemed almost brusque; there didn't seem to be the affection that existed between LJ and Abby.

"Is that a problem?" Jackson asked tentatively, knowing that he didn't yet know his son well enough to know just how he felt about his team. Jackson had always been a fan of words; LJ…not so much. Jackson had always made it plain just how he was feeling; LJ tended to internalise his emotions…the man will give himself a hernia!

"Hell yes it's a problem! Tony can't leave!"

Jackson could see his son meant every word; the last time he saw Leroy so worked up was at Shannon and Kelly's funeral when he brought a woman.

"Well, why does he want to leave?" He wanted to help his son but he couldn't do that if he didn't have any details.

"Because I screwed up. He needed me…needed my help, and I wasn't there. Then I had to lie to him and he thinks I don't trust him…thinks he can't trust me."

"Do you trust him?" Jackson asked curiously.

"With my life," Gibbs replied seriously. "There's no-one I trust more."

Jackson could see the sincerity in his son's eyes, could hear it piercing his normally stoic voice. "Does he know this?"

"I've told him; I've tried to talk to him and explain everything, but you, of all people, know just how bad I am at talking about anything even remotely emotional. I don't know," Gibbs sighed and picked at his blanket. "I just have no idea if he's taken anything I've said on board or if he even trusts me enough to listen."

"He seemed to be pretty happy working with you when I met him in Stillwater; he listened to you then. Maybe he just needs time to soak it all in." Jackson didn't know either one of them well enough to offer helpful advice; he felt more than a little useless.

"Unfortunately, time is something we're short on; he's got three days left until his resignation is final. If he leaves, he won't ever come back; DiNozzo can be pretty stubborn."

"He's not the only one," Jackson offered quietly, a knowing smile upon his face.

"You're one to talk," Gibbs shot back with a wry grin of his own. "Where do you think I got my stubborn streak from?"

"Your mother, obviously," Jackson laughed, pleased to see that his son joined him.

Unfortunately, Gibbs' sombre countenance returned all too quickly. "He's a damn good agent, and we make a damn good team. He may act like an idiot but there's no-one I'd rather have watching my six. He understands me without me having to explain myself…"

"I know how you hate that," his father interjected, a small smile on his face as he tried to lighten the conversation. His son rarely explained himself to anyone; he couldn't imagine that it was a trait the drill sergeants approved of.

Gibbs smiled at his father, aware that the dig was made in jest but that it held some modicum of truth to it too. "He gave me his unwavering loyalty in Baltimore and I never really understood why, but I liked it and then I took it for granted. Now I'm afraid I've lost it for good."

"Sounds like you two are close."

"We _were_," Gibbs said sadly. "We've been through a lot together. I think I might have left NCIS a long time ago if it wasn't for Tony, Abby and Ducky."

"It seems like you've got yourself a good family here LJ," Jackson acknowledged, ignoring the small tug at his heart at the warring thoughts that he had been replaced and that his son was happy.

Gibbs nodded, unable to vocalise anything else. Although his father didn't know the members of his team, even he could tell that they were close. So why couldn't Tony? And more importantly of all, had he lost that family now?

A short, sharp knock at his door took him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Dr. Brad Pitt standing in his doorway, medical chart in hand.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked quietly, glancing at the unknown old man standing beside Gibbs' bed.

"No. Brad, this is my father, Jackson Gibbs. Dad, this is Dr. Brad Pitt."

Brad could see that he wouldn't have to explain to the older man about the differences between the two Brad Pitts. Not the slightest flicker of recognition had crossed the man's face. He stuck out his hand; "Pleased to meet you Mr. Gibbs."

"Jackson will do just fine, Doctor. Are you here about Leroy?" He would swear that doctors seemed to be getting younger; he didn't trust any doctor that had no gray hairs.

"In a manner of speaking," he turned to face the injured Gibbs. "Your own doctor is off duty at the moment and I'm one of the fancy docs in this department. So when some idiotic patient is talking about being discharged after being shot in the chest the nurses seem to think I may have a little sway in the matter. Of course that was before I knew that the idiotic patient was you Gibbs…well, let me just say now that I know my case is futile."

Jackson raised an eyebrow at the doctor and looked towards his son; he couldn't imagine Leroy letting anyone talk to him like that. To his surprise his son was smiling.

"Brad, you were DiNozzo's doctor; _you_ were the idiotic doctor who discharged him a week too soon…and he had the Plague, not just some little pinprick," Gibbs pointed out.

"I had to discharge him; he kept asking me and it was getting annoying, plus he wouldn't let my nurses do their job. Well, no, that's not entirely true; he let the _male_ nurses do their jobs," Brad conceded. "And a bullet wound is not a pinprick Gibbs. Lungs work well with air, that's true, but you don't need to look like a sieve for them to work properly."

Jackson had been listening to the banter and recognised that his son was familiar with this doctor. Then something hit him.

"The Plague?"

"The Pneumonic Plague to be exact," Brad explained. "Nasty stuff!"

"And DiNozzo had this?"

"Had it and survived it," Brad pointed out. "They said he only had a fifteen percent chance of survival, but they didn't know who his doctor was." He boasted, ignoring Gibbs' quiet snort. "Of course the man's Boss drummed up an order which _may_ have played a _small_ part in Tony's recovery."

"I didn't even know the Plague still existed; I thought it was a disease from Medieval Europe," Jackson said, confused.

"It's a common misconception," Brad nodded. "It's still very much alive in certain parts of the world."

Jackson shook his head and looked at his son. "When I heard you were working with NCIS I never thought I'd have to worry about you getting some deadly disease like the plague!"

"Biological warfare is fast becoming everyone's favourite plaything," Gibbs shrugged, thinking on the threats of Anthrax attacks, Ricin and many other biological weapons that were being engineered by America and everyone else who had the capability. His father just shook his head again in disbelief. "I did tell you that Tony and I had been through a lot together."

"Back to the matter at hand," Brad interjected. "Why are you so desperate to get out of here early and collapse your lung?"

"Tony," Gibbs explained briefly, not wanting to say more than was necessary. He knew that Brad and Tony were friends, knew that Tony would always want the Respiratory Consultant as his doctor regardless of where his injury was. It wasn't his place to talk about his agent to his friends.

"Are you talking about his retirement?" Brad asked knowingly. At Gibbs' small look of surprise he let out a laugh. "A nurse tends to have two ears, and beneath those ears…a mouth. Hospital gossip includes our patients, Gibbs, and no-one spends more time with patients than nurses; they're the ones who really run this place.

"I won't ask for details; I'll drag them out of Tony next time he walks through the hospital's doors, or when he's next wheeled through them which, let's face it, is more likely."

"Might not be a next time doc," Gibbs pointed out quietly.

Brad ignored, pretty certain that he knew what the outcome of this situation would be; after all, if you have plague-damaged lungs you don't dive into dirty water after just anyone.

"It's time for your physio session soon, so I'll come back after you've finished that and I'll give you a quick check-up. If everything is ok then I will discharge you and give you outpatient status. If I think there's a serious risk of complications then I won't discharge you and I'll give you instructions, which you'll ignore and then sign yourself out AMA. Nothing I like better than putting my time to good use. I've other patients to check on; I'll be back later."

With that, Brad left the room to continue his rounds.

"Sounds like he has you pegged," Jackson pointed out; his son had never been a big fan of doctors and hospitals. LJ had never liked to be fussed over and he certainly didn't like following anyone else's rules; why he'd joined the military was anyone's guess.

Gibbs ignored the jibe. "It seems like I'm going to be pretty busy this afternoon. You should go get some rest; you look tired."

"I am; it's been a long day and it's only just coming on lunch-time. Abby offered me a coffin; I'm hoping she's joking."

"You'll be disappointed," Gibbs warned his father, a knowing smile dancing on his lips as his father's face lost a little colour. He took pity, "She has a couch too."

"Thank God," breathed out Jackson with a sigh of relief. "I'll come and see you in the morning," he promised, searching his son's face for any sign that he would be welcome to return.

Gibbs smiled knowing that, although the relationship between him and his father was still shaky at best, things were improving between the two of them. "I'll be here," he assured his father. "You know, if you want a real bed, my door is never locked."

Jackson felt his emotions choking him; he knew that this was a big step for Leroy, that it was an open invitation into his life. He nodded his thanks and left before his face betrayed him.

_

* * *

_

Tony had spent the day in a haze of confusion and indecision. Every time he found a reason to stay he would find two reasons why he had to leave, then twice as many more reasons to stay and so on.

The previous day had been quiet at work; the team had collected and documented all evidence and labelled everything properly for the trial. Winters may have confessed but any case could be destroyed by broken protocols and procedures; Tony hated it when criminals got off on a technicality.

Ziva and McGee had worked quietly and efficiently through their own paperwork and had taken it upon themselves to gather all the relevant documents from Ducky and Abby, as well as getting reports faxed over from the Simmons.

Tony had appreciated their thoughtfulness; he had his hands full with his own case-report as well as evaluations, requisitions and injury reports.

Both Ziva and McGee had been quiet throughout the day, occasionally asking Tony if he was ok and if he needed anything doing. Tony knew that he unsettled people when he was quiet, but he had too many thoughts running through his head for him to even try and pretend that everything was ok.

At lunch, McGee had taken it upon himself to go and get lunch from a nearby Chinese restaurant that the team frequently visited during some of their busier cases. The food was nice and simple and had become very much a team tradition.

While the Probie was getting the food Ziva went to get drinks; she came back with a cappuccino from one of Tony's favourite local haunts.

Both Ducky and Abby came up to the bullpen for lunch; Palmer once again, seemed to elude Tony. Lunch was a quiet affair but pleasant; Ducky did most of the talking closely followed by Abby.

Tony had always wondered which of the two was more verbose. Ducky certainly seemed to talk more as he was always ready with some long-winded story that rarely had anything to do with their current topic. However, Abby spoke almost at light-speed…probably a Caff-Pow thing. What she said may take up less time but only because she spoke so rapidly.

Perhaps one day he should try to measure it.

Once everyone but Tony had finished their work he sent them home, brought the entire case-report together and went to see Vance. He hadn't seen or spoken to the Director since he made his offer earlier in the day

The debriefing had been perfunctory and concise. Neither Vance nor Tony mentioned the looming resignation or any of the job offers from Vance himself or from outside the Agency.

Tony knew that he had to talk to Gibbs…knew that he had to make a decision. His drive over to Bethesda had passed much like the rest of the day had; his mind a veritable tennis match of doubts and affirmations about his future at NCIS.

Finally after weeks, maybe even years, of consideration he would have to make a final decision.

His hands felt sticky with sweat and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears and feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. As he neared Gibbs' hospital room his heart rate increased and his stomach rotated between light as a feather to heavy as lead; he felt sick with nerves.

Gibbs was on the narrow hospital bed facing the dark view out of the window. The thin blanket came up to his mid-waist and Tony saw the worn NIS t-shirt that was almost always present when Gibbs was out of the office and working on his boat.

He must have sensed someone present because he turned to look at Tony and gave his Senior Field Agent a searching look.

"Gibbs," Tony nodded by way of greeting.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs returned. He thought Tony looked tired and restless. He kept on shifting his balance from one foot to the other; he was clearly nervous and Gibbs felt his own senses prickling because of it. "Everything ok?" he asked cautiously.

"Everything's fine," Tony said quickly; if he couldn't even convince himself, he knew that he would fail miserably with his Boss. "Sorry I didn't come over again last night; I needed to do some thinking."

"Don't worry about it; physio tired me more than I thought and with all this crap they're pumping into me," he said, gesturing towards the IV stand, "I fell asleep pretty early on."

Tony nodded, recalling his own days of physio; at the end of a session it felt as though they had removed your spine and the only thing holding you upright was sheer bloody willpower.

"Tony…?" Gibbs asked, sensing that DiNozzo wasn't here for small-talk. Tony looked up and into the eyes of his Boss for the first time that evening; Gibbs could see the indecision there but he could also read the strong determination in them.

Tony, in turn, could see the genuine concern in his Boss' eyes. He hoped to God he had made the right choice.

"Boss," he started, knowing that there would be no going back now, "I've made my decision."

_

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_

_**There you go! Cliff-hanger! Please let me know what you think. Only one more chapter to go; I'll try to have it up soon.**_

_**Next up**__** – We finally learn of Tony's decision and the team gather at Sorrentino's, but is it in joy or sadness?**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**Thanks to everyone who took the time to review and alert and what not.**_

_**Had hoped to be a little quicker with the update, but lambing has started now and things are a bit hectic. Torrential rain and snow is on the way; ideal weather for lambing. Don't you just love the spring in Britain!**_

_**Here it is, the last chapter of 'Two Weeks Notice,' finally! It's quite a long one. Hope I don't disappoint.**_

_

* * *

_

"_I've made my decision."_

"Tony…" Gibbs started, dreading what decision he would hear from his Senior Field Agent.

"No!" Tony almost shouted. Gibbs felt his heart fall into his stomach, lead-heavy; so Tony was going to leave…

"You can't interrupt me," Tony continued, unaware of Gibbs' inner thoughts as he was too busy concentrating on his own emotional turmoil. "I need to say this and you need to listen."

"Ok," Gibbs nodded, his throat dry. It hadn't been an out and out _'fuck you, I'm off,'_ so maybe there was some hope after all.

"I want to stay at NCIS and I want to stay on your team. I think I _need_ to leave, I think things might be better for me if I did go. But I _want_ to stay.

"My whole life I've had to fight for what I want. I fought to do sports in school and because I didn't focus on the things my father thought were important I got sent off to Rhode Island Military Academy. I fought to do Phys. Ed. at college when my father wanted me to do business, so I had to fight for a scholarship and bust my ass off at every kind of job that exists to pay for it all.

"I wanted to go into law enforcement when my father wanted me to go into the family business and I haven't seen the man since he told me I was going to end up in the gutter. I wanted to make detective even though everyone thought I was some rich, spoilt brat who couldn't do the job and I fought hard everyday to prove them all wrong!

"I fought hard at NCIS to show everyone that I could be on your team and survive. I fought hard to beat the Plague. I fought hard to catch Ari because I wanted him to pay for what he did to Kate. I fought hard to keep the team together when you went to Mexico because I wanted what was left of my weird pseudo-family to stay together.

"I'm _tired_ of fighting for everything in my life Gibbs; I have never felt this bone-deep exhaustion that I'm feeling right now." Tony let out a mirthless chuckle. "The irony of it all is that this is the one time that I'm fighting for something I _don't_ want and everyone else seems to be fighting for what I _do_ want, and I…I don't understand why I've been fighting this hard for something that I _really_ don't want.

"When I handed in my resignation I honestly didn't expect this…this sort of fallout," he gestured helplessly. "I expected the _'why's'_ from Ducky and Abby and Jimmy, and I expected some anger and confusion from Ziva and McGee, and maybe even some head-slaps from you trying to get me to see things your way.

"I…I didn't think you would all fight this hard to get me to stay, I didn't think you'd give that much of a damn, and I sure as hell didn't expect Vance to react the way he did!"

"We're a team Tony," Gibbs interjected quietly, aware that Tony had asked him not to interrupt but felt like something needed to be said. "We're may even be more than that; of course we were going to fight to keep you."

"But _I_ didn't know that," Tony insisted, trying to get his point across. "I knew that you'd be pissed and want to know why and I knew that maybe you might want me to rethink things but I never expected that I'd be made to doubt my decision to leave! A lot has happened here, at NCIS, that has made me begin to doubt myself and I…"

"Tony," Gibbs interrupted once again, eager to make Tony see that he couldn't blame himself for everything. "Everyone's made mistakes, especially undercover…"

"No!" Tony interrupted. "There are some things that can't be forgiven and can never be forgotten. You can't just ignore all the mistakes I've made because I handed in my resignation, Gibbs; I fucked up and I should be held accountable! You don't get to white-wash over everything; I'm good at my job and I _should_ have known better!"

"Ok," Gibbs acquiesced, all too aware of how well Tony took platitudes when he was worked up. He knew they didn't work either; they didn't work when his marriages failed, they didn't work when Kate died and they definitely didn't work when he lost his beloved wife and child.

"When you got shot," Tony continued, "and you were bleeding out in my arms…I have never felt so numb and so silently panicked at the same time, not even when I had Kate's blood on my face and her brains in my hair. I don't know what I would have done if you had died. I know everyone thinks I see you as some kind of pseudo-father figure but that's not true; the word _'father'_ for me…it doesn't have too many great connotations. But you're definitely important to me; the _team_ is definitely important to me.

"You've taught me a lot Gibbs, on the job _and_ off, and I think I probably _would_ have ended up in a gutter somewhere in Baltimore or another city further down the line if you hadn't shown up when you did. And you may not be my father but you sure as hell gave me a family.

"When everything settled down here after I first arrived I found a sister in Abby and an almost grandfatherly figure in Ducky; we can just ignore Blackadder, right?" Tony asked, a small smile reaching his eyes for the first time since he entered the hospital room.

Gibbs laughed, all too aware of just how much animosity there had been between the two of them. He had never thought much of Blackadder either, but she had lasted longer than most and as he had normally scared most people away he had had to make do.

Neither one of the two agents spoke for a while, both silently taking everything in; Gibbs was trying to figure out whether Tony had decided to stay or not and Tony was wondering if he would come to regret his decision.

"Tony," Gibbs started, taking the other man's silence as a sign that he was done talking for now. "You don't have to fight to go; in fact I think we've all made it pretty clear that we'd fight Hell and high waters to keep you."

"Yeah," Tony said, an unusually shy smile creeping across his face. "I think I'm just starting to figure that out."

Silence hung between them again as they each took in the other's words and expressions. However, Gibbs could stand it no longer; despite Tony's long speeches about what he did and didn't want, the older man still had no idea what his final decision was. He hoped it all meant that Tony was staying, but he also didn't want to create false hope and see his team's future dashed against the rocks along with that hope.

"So, are you planning on sticking around for a bit longer?" he asked, trying to sound casual, trying to sound as though this decision would not become the be all and end all of 'Team Gibbs.'

"I'd thought about it," Tony admitted, although he would never admit to just how much fun he was having in being deliberately vague with his boss. "You really want me to stick around? Cos I've still got three days to go if you want to change your mind; my two weeks notice is almost up."

"I think I could probably survive another few years with you as my Senior Field Agent," Gibbs smiled, and the laughter dancing in his eyes allowed Tony to see that he was no where near as nonchalant as he was trying to appear.

"You'd have to destroy my letter of resignation; it is an official letter after all," Tony pointed out, keen to keep the tone of the conversation light for a few moments more.

Gibbs' shoulders sagged with relief; "Tony, I've wanted to do that since the moment you handed it in," he confessed needlessly.

"Well, that's good," Tony gave his Boss a relieved smile. "Cos I don't really want to lose another family," he admitted quietly.

"Neither do I," Gibbs assured him with a tired smile of his own.

Gibbs was exhausted from physiotherapy and from his talks with both his father and Dr. Pitt, as well as the affects of his injury. However, at this moment in time he felt all his exhaustion fade at the thought that somewhere deep down Tony still found it within himself to forgive him; he wouldn't even consider sticking around if that wasn't the case!

Of course, being Gibbs, he had absolutely no desire to let his Senior Field Agent know just how much his staying meant to the older man. He felt he'd been overly emotional over the past few days; he secretly tried to blame the drugs rather than face the possibility that he was far more deeply invested in his team than he had ever intended to be.

As he was trying so desperately not to meet Tony's eyes at that particular moment in time, afraid of what his own eyes might reveal, Gibbs missed it as all traces of humour leave the younger man's face and a stern expression took hold.

"But Gibbs," Tony's almost severe tone of voice brought Gibbs' startled eyes up to meet those of his Senior Field Agent. "I swear on my mother's grave that if you _ever_ treat me like your own goddamn puppet and yank my strings to your own personal tune again, then that's it; I will not only leave NCIS for good and never look back, but I will probably shoot you before I go. There will be no two weeks notice next time; understood?"

Gibbs was a little taken aback; Tony had never threatened him before. The Senior Field Agent had shouted at him plenty of times (especially over the past few days) when he thought Gibbs was wrong or being an ass to someone on the team, but the younger man had never taken this threatening tone with him before.

It was a shock, but more than that, it was a wake-up call; he couldn't afford to fuck things up with Tony again because he knew there would be no more second chances.

Gibbs nodded, "I understand. I'll do my best to make sure it never happens again," he tried to assure the younger man, all too aware that it was not a promise he could really make.

Tony knew that too. "If I stay there is every chance that a case may come up and you will need to use me, but next time Gibbs, just _tell_ me. I've worked with you for eight years and I think I've done _more_ than enough to prove myself trustworthy; no more head-fucks, got it!"

"Agreed," Gibbs nodded. That, of course, had been the real issue all along for Tony, not that Gibbs had used him, but that he hadn't told him about it; Tony went in blind not knowing the _'who'_ and the _'why,'_ and he saw that as a sign of Gibbs' lack of faith in him.

"Well, now that that is all sorted out, I think I should go. You look like crap and I sure as hell feel like crap; you should get some rest and I have a date with my own bed that I really don't want to miss."

Gibbs knew that was true, he could feel his own exhaustion nipping at his heels and weighing down on his eyelids. He also knew that if Tony was feeling anything like him then he was feeling all talked out too. They both needed some time to think over what had been said and come to terms with Tony's decision to stay; that, of course, was the most important point in Gibbs' mind…Tony was staying.

He felt like he might actually sleep well with that particular burden eased off his shoulders. He knew the guilt of driving Tony to this would leave a bitter aftertaste for a long time to come, but that was his own burden to bear. Now all he had to do was make sure he didn't screw things up again; easier said than done of course.

"Ok," Gibbs finally agreed out loud. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked nervously, hoping that Tony wouldn't reconsider overnight.

Tony nodded. He was exhausted; the talk and the nervous few hours that led up to it had taken their toll. "I'll be there, Boss" he assured Gibbs. He turned to leave when he heard his name being called.

"Tony, I'm really glad you decided to stick around."

Tony couldn't say that he was too; it was early days and there was no way of knowing what might happen to make him regret staying. However, he could see the sincerity in Gibbs' eyes and could hear it ringing throughout his voice, and he appreciated the fact that the usually stoic man was being so open and honest with him.

"Sleep well, Boss," he said with a small smile. "I'll bring coffee tomorrow…good non-hospital coffee, I promise!"

"Ah, coffee," Gibbs said wistfully.

Tony's quiet laughter could be heard as he headed down the corridor; for the first time in days, maybe even months, Gibbs felt that maybe everything would turn out alright after all.

_

* * *

_

Gibbs had slept soundly overnight and was eager to talk to Dr. Pitt. He knew that the young doctor had a soft spot for his accident-prone Senior Field Agent and was therefore more likely to let him out of the hospital to attend the dinner at Sorrentino's that was being prepared in Tony's honour.

He'd asked a nurse to fetch Dr. Pitt as soon as he clocked in for his shift; unfortunately that wasn't until after lunch which meant that Gibbs was left feeling irritable all morning.

Jackson had returned shortly after visiting hours started at ten only to find his son scaring out a nurse that looked to be fresh out of school.

"Leroy!" he admonished his son. His son, however, didn't look the slightest bit repentant.

"She was messing around with my IV when I told her I didn't need anymore fucking drugs!"

Jackson knew that his son must be in a foul mood because Leroy rarely ever swore in front of him. When he was younger and in a bad mood, his mother always knew how to handle him and Jackson had let her, allowing her to bring calm and quiet back into their household as quickly as possible.

Even if Leroy was still the same person he was all those years ago he wouldn't have a clue how to appease him. He certainly didn't know what to do with the man before him now. Shannon and Kelly's death had changed him; the distance between them that was created after Leroy enlisted in the Marine Corps grew further still.

Jackson did the only thing he could think of; he left his son to silently stew and he headed back out of the hospital. Abby had told him that his son valued good coffee above everything else.

He'd noticed a small café nearby and thought that a cup of coffee might help improve Leroy's spirits…maybe two would be better…just in case.

The young girl behind the counter looked as thought she should still be in high school, but she was nice and polite and very cheerful and Jackson felt himself smiling along with her, temporarily forgetting about the black cloud that awaited him back in the hospital.

Almost 20 minutes later, Jackson returned to his son's hospital room, with four cups of coffee and some baked goodies from the café. He took his own cup and a muffin and placed the rest on the table on the end of Leroy's bed.

"You calmed down any?" Jackson asked, with a raised eyebrow, daring his son to treat him like he had the poor nurse.

Gibbs acknowledged his father's dig at his behaviour with a small nod, but dammit, he wanted to get out of here and he'd rather do it without all of the paperwork that follows signing out AMA.

He took a big gulp of coffee and felt some of the tension leave him; this coffee was really good!

"Sorry," Gibbs said, breaking his own personal rule yet again. "I've been waiting for Dr. Pitt to come and sign me out. Yesterday, he said he wanted me to stay one more night and then he'd be back to sort out my discharge and he's not due in until after lunch. I don't like hospitals, I _hate_ waiting and I _really_ need to get out of here."

"You hate waiting? Well, that's a surprise!" Jackson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He might not know that man his son had grown to be very well yet, but there were certain facets of his personality that emerged during his teenaged years that had clearly never left.

Gibbs shot his father a half-hearted glare and carried on drinking his coffee. He wondered if the other two cups were supposed to be shared between the two of them or whether his father's sense of self-preservation ensured that Gibbs would have his standard three cups of morning coffee.

"Yes, they're both for you, LJ" Jackson assured his son having seen the younger man eyeball the cups hungrily.

Gibbs was glad that his father had come back into his life; a lot of time had passed since the funeral and he'd thought about the man from time to time. It was only recently, since the trip to Stillwater, that he had begun to relive some of the happier memories.

He didn't know the ins and outs of DiNozzo's childhood; he didn't think it was one full of abuse and torment but he didn't think it had been a happy one either. In fact, more than anything, Gibbs believed that his Senior Field Agent had led a very lonely childhood.

He and his father had their issues, who didn't? There had been rules as he grew up, like not touching his father's rifle, but there was nothing very strict. He had lived a very balanced childhood, one with scraped knees from bikes and tree-climbing and one with hot chocolate before bed and a night-time story. That was the kind of childhood he had strived for with Kelly.

His father may have screwed up in bringing a stranger to Shannon and Kelly's funeral, but there were worse sins out there. Now they had a chance to patch things up before it was too late; he wondered if Tony would ever have that opportunity with his own father.

"Dad, what are you doing tonight?"

Jackson looked a little thrown by the question but answered nonetheless. "I imagine I'll be trying to find some more food in those cupboards of yours. Really LJ, what do you actually eat?"

Gibbs ignored the possible forthcoming lecture about his grocery shopping and carried on with the original topic. "We're going to have a meal at Sorrentino's tonight, the team that is. Would you like to come?"

Jackson didn't know what to think. The last time he had met anyone from the team his son had seemed more than eager to limit their interaction, and yet here he was now with a clear invite to a meal with them all.

"Is this to do with DiNozzo?" he asked curiously.

"It is. One of his friends organised a meal for everyone at a small family restaurant that Tony likes; the owner is a bit of a mother hen towards him."

Jackson thought that was a bit rich coming from his son considering how much time and effort he had spent worrying over the boy from his hospital bed, but he refrained from saying anything along those lines. "Don't you want to keep this limited to just the team then? It seems like it could become kind of personal."

"Dad, I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't want you there. Besides, you've yet to meet Ducky, and I'm beyond one hundred percent certain that everyone, especially Tony, would like the chance to uncover some more dirt from my childhood; you clearly didn't tell them enough in Stillwater."

The older man was surprised to hear that his son was so readily prepared to put himself in front of the firing line; unlike his son, Jackson could talk for hours and would do so willingly. He had always thought you could get further with a few kind words that you could with a stern look.

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind your old man showing up and embarrassing you in front of your friends." He would look forward to spending more time with his son.

Gibbs smiled in response. He did want his father there; a few hours together during visiting hours whilst stuck in a hospital bed could hardly be counted as quality father-son time. More than that though, he felt like he owed Tony this. He had been abrupt with him in Stillwater, eager to keep the team and especially Tony away from his troubled past.

However, he had a lot of ground to cover with Tony in regaining the younger man's trust. By giving Tony full and open access to his childhood he thought that it might show the younger man just how much he trusted him; whether it be work related or something of a more personal nature, he trusted Tony and needed him to know that he wanted nothing more than to earn back some of the trust that he had taken for granted for so long now.

As morning visiting hours came to an end, he drew up some directions to Sorrentino's for his father, gave the man full permission to do some _'proper'_ grocery shopping, as the older man had phrased it, and added a few items of his own.

He was looking forward to this meal, and hoped that any damaged bridges between him and Tony had only been a little singed rather than burnt to a crisp.

Dr. Pitt had better get a move on, Gibbs thought darkly. His anticipation of the night's events once again evoked his infamous impatience.

_

* * *

_

The day had passed slowly, with the team once again looking over cold cases. Both Ziva and McGee had to know that it was because the Director didn't want them working a current case when their lead agent might be leaving half-way through it, but neither one of them complained in the slightest, and for that, Tony was grateful.

Lunch had come and gone before he realised, so wrapped up as he was in a cold case of Pacci's. He'd liked the quiet, sincere man; he was glad to be able to work the murder case and catch the son of a bitch that took one of their own.

Ziva placed a small Chinese take-out box on his desk along with a bottle of water. He thanked her and set about filling his stomach, wondering as he did so, just how he was going to tell Ziva and McGee that he was staying.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Vance leaning over the railing above and regarding the bull-pen with an unreadable expression. Tony got up and walked up the steps to meet him.

"Director," he greeted politely. "Can we talk? In your office?" he added, noticing that the two of them had drawn more than a few pairs of eyes.

Since his very public resignation almost two weeks ago, the scuttlebutt had been raging throughout the Major Crimes Unit about anything and everything; it ranged from Tony finally having had enough of Gibbs' physical abuse, to him resigning before he was fired because his Boss had finally had enough of his antics. It was all getting pretty annoying.

Vance nodded and led the way back to his office. He sat himself behind his desk and gestured towards another chair for Tony.

"What can I do for you, Agent DiNozzo?"

"I've been thinking things over…"

"I should hope so," Vance interrupted, one eyebrow raised as though he would had expected nothing less from the man opposite him.

Tony nodded, all too aware that it was next to impossible to be in a situation like his and not think things over. "I want to stay here at NCIS." He quickly looked up at the Director, trying to gauge his opinion on that.

His facial expression never changed, but Vance could feel himself doing a little internal happy dance; it may have taken him a long time, but he had finally come to realise that as much as he may dislike DiNozzo the man was a damn fine agent.

When DiNozzo had first handed in his letter of resignation, Vance could not deny that his initial reaction had been one of utmost joy; he had thought DiNozzo was too computer illiterate to matter in this technological age, and he did not have the reputation that Gibbs did.

However, DiNozzo's resignation had sparked a whole host of job offers, some from within NCIS, and some even from within the Major Crimes Unit itself. The FBI had offered him a job, Simmons had offered him a job, even the local Metro PD had given him an offer.

It was then that Vance realised that as much as he may not personally like one very Special Agent DiNozzo, the younger man had to be doing something right to garner so much interest in his professional future.

He did a lot of digging around in DiNozzo's file, trying to find something that might explain more about the unpredictable man only to come up empty-handed. He'd managed to find a few interesting bits of history, but nothing that would explain why he had lead agents coming up to his office trying to pilfer DiNozzo for their own teams.

His talk with Gibbs had revealed as much about DiNozzo as it had done about the older man; he knew right then and there that he would never get Gibbs to accept anyone else as his Senior Field Agent, and a happy Gibbs led to a much more peaceful time at NCIS HQ.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that Agent DiNozzo," he finally confessed. He may not like the man, but he wanted to excel in his position as Director of NCIS, and to do that he needed competent people working beneath him. "May I ask what made you change your mind?"

"I'm just not sure that I could leave everyone behind," Tony shrugged, and Vance knew that he wouldn't get much more out of the usually quite verbal man. He was beginning to figure out that it was what DiNozzo _didn't_ say that said the most; he may talk, but rarely about anything of substance as he would keep his more personal thoughts to himself.

Vance nodded, accepting the answer for now. "Have you given any more thought to my other offer?" he asked, referring to an suggestion he made about making Tony a team leader in the near-future.

"I have," Tony admitted. "But I haven't come up with an answer yet. Can you ask me when the position is open?"

"Of course," Vance assured. One thing he had discovered when reading DiNozzo's files was that while he took over as team leader during Gibbs' little sojourn to Mexico, the team's case-closure rate never dropped. Considering he had been juggling a new position of responsibility, a fractured team _and_ an undercover operation, he thought that Tony would make an ideal team leader for his Agency.

"And can we still not…"

"I won't say a word to Agent Gibbs, or anyone else," Vance interrupted.

Tony nodded, a relieved smile briefly flickering across his face. "Thank you Director Vance." He stood up to leave when the Director's voice stopped him.

"Does everyone else know you're staying?" Vance inquired curiously.

"I've told Gibbs, and I thought I should tell you before anyone else," Tony pointed out; the man was the Director after all, and he could refuse to accept Tony's decision to stay at NCIS.

"Thank you Agent DiNozzo." Vance was glad that the younger man seemed to respect the chain of command at least some what. He didn't miss that that still didn't stop Gibbs from being the first person to know. Vance may be the Agency's Director, but he would never be _'Boss'_ to anyone on that team, especially not to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

_

* * *

_

Tony came back down the stairs and rang down to both autopsy and the forensics lab, asking for Ducky, Jimmy and Abby to come up to the bull-pen.

Ziva and McGee looked on as these calls were being made, and both were completely nonplussed. Had something happened in the Director's office? Was something wrong with Gibbs?

Apparently similar scenarios had run through the minds of Abby, Ducky and Jimmy as all three of them came racing into the bull-pen, aiming straight for Tony with a look of slight panic written across their faces.

"Tony?" Abby asked with trepidation. "Oh my God! Is it Gibbs? I knew he shouldn't have been walking around. He had a hole in his lung and they were making him walk around and do physiotherapy and he wasn't ready and they could be all sorts of complications and now he might…"

"Abby!" Tony almost shouted, trying to get her to stop and calm down, and more importantly to take a breath. "Gibbs is fine," he insisted. Once again he noticed that more than a few pairs of eyes were watching them all with interest. "Office, now."

Everyone dutifully followed him to the elevator which was swiftly paused mid-levels somewhere.

"You know, one of these days, the emergency brakes on this are going to give way and we're all going to plummet to our deaths," he predicted wryly.

"Tony!" Abby squealed impatiently, stamping her foot as she did so.

"Right, sorry. It's kind of cramped in here too, so I'll be brief. Yeah, so…um…I'm going to stay here at NCIS, with Gibbs' team, with you. Sorry Probie, no Senior Field Agent badge for you just yet."

Neither Ziva or McGee didn't know what to say, so sure as they had been that their team would be broken irreparably when Tony left.

Jimmy too was left momentarily stunned; he'd spent so much time trying to organise things and keep busy because he didn't want to think about losing Tony's friendship.

Abby was having unusual verbal problems, although she certainly didn't have any problems expressing herself; with a shrill squeal she threw herself at Tony who stumbled at the unexpected weight and winced when she caught his bad shoulder and he pulled on his bad side.

Ducky's verbose nature didn't escape him; "Anthony, my dear boy, I'm so glad that you've decided to stay. NCIS would be a very different place without you. I assume you've already spoken with Jethro."

"Yeah, I told him last night. Ow!" he cried out, rubbing his arm that Abby had just whacked, hard. "What was that for?"

"You've known that you're going to stay since yesterday and you're only just telling us now…that's what that was for!" Abby pulled her best stern expression and stood with her hands on her hips, however, her absolute joy at Tony's decision to stay soon brought about another hug and another smile.

"Does the Director know?" Ducky inquired curiously, eager to know what the man's reaction might have been.

"I just went up and talked to him. OW! Abby!"

"You told The Toothpick before you told us?" she demanded to know.

"Well I didn't want to have to tell you that the Director changed his mind and told to me take a long hike off a short pier."

"Ok," Abby said as she hugged him tightly, her enthusiasm blinding her once again to the painful grimace that crossed Tony's face. "You're forgiven."

"Thanks Abs," Tony managed between to too tight embrace and the pain flaring up in both his side and his shoulder. "Vance is letting me stay and there don't appear to be any issues there," he said to Ducky.

"Tony," McGee suddenly found his voice, "I'm really glad you decided to stay." He meant every word too; there were times when he found the Senior Field Agent beyond annoying, but he knew he still had a lot to learn from the man and he was eager to show that he could be a good Field Agent and not just some desk bound computer nerd.

"Thanks Probie, I did feel a little bad when I realised that I'd be leaving you to act as a buffer between Gibbs and the world. I already know that you make a good Senior Field Agent, but that was for me and not for Gibbs," Tony pointed out with a wicked grin.

McGee gulped; he too had spent a lot of time wondering about what it would be like to be Gibbs' Senior Field Agent and not once did his imagination come up with something pleasant. He wasn't as thick-skinned as Tony pretended to be and Gibbs' approval meant just as much. He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to fill Tony's shoes as Senior Field Agent; perhaps this was how DiNozzo felt about becoming team-lead when Gibbs went off to Mexico.

Ziva was still having difficulty expressing her emotions; she was much more used to burying her feelings and focusing on getting the job done. However, she knew that Tony would need something, a few words, a gesture, just _something_ to let him know that she had meant it when she had told him that she wanted him and only him as her partner.

"Tony," she started quietly, making sure she had his attention. "I'm glad you will be here, watching my six."

"Well, it's a nice six to watch," Tony joked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

Everyone, even Ziva who groaned loudly but could not keep her true emotions from her eyes, felt themselves smile at this; it had been a long time since Tony had joked with his team. His jokes and the way he sometimes refused to take things seriously could often rub the team the wrong way, but they had missed his easy smile and they were glad to see its return, even if it _was_ at their expense.

"I catch you _'watching'_ and you will lose more than your eyes," Ziva promised with a feral grin.

Tony smiled in return, he always liked it when Ziva gave as good as she got.

They jumped when there was a banging above them and then they heard an angry mutter. Tony released the emergency button and returned to the bullpen's floor. When the door opened, Special Agent Reyes and his team were geared up and had obviously been waiting to use the elevator.

"DiNozzo, despite what your Boss might think the elevator does _not_ constitute a good office!"

Tony didn't look in the slightest bit chagrined as he left the crowded elevator with a grin and a small pat on the Lead Agent's shoulders.

"There's always the stairs," he pointed out, and went back to his desk before Reyes could say anything. Reyes stepped into the elevator with his team only to find three people still in there; Abigail Sciuto, Dr. Mallard and his assistant Mr. Palmer.

"Going down?" Abby asked, adopting her best impression of Tony's impish grin.

_

* * *

_

Tony managed to finish work at a reasonable hour, as did everyone else. He had hoped that everyone could go out for a bite to eat or maybe even a drink together, as a reunited team. However, it seemed as though everyone had unavoidable plans. He wasn't all that surprised; after all, he still technically had two days of his two weeks notice left.

He drove the now very familiar route to Bethesda and was surprised to find Gibbs was fully dressed and sat on his bed. His bag was by his feet and in his hands a bundle of paperwork.

"Gibbs?" he asked curiously; he'd thought the older man would be limited to a hospital bed for a little while longer yet.

"I've been granted a stay of execution," Gibbs said, not wanting to give anything away about just why he had been allowed to leave.

"Yes, and you have strict instructions to follow," came a voice from behind Tony. He turned and found himself face-to-face with Dr. Brad Pitt.

"Doc, what's going on? I thought he was supposed to be having a pretty strict physiotherapy regime that would keep him in here for a few more days."

"He's doing ok in physio and he can complete it as an outpatient. I was hoping to speak with either you or Dr. Mallard about making sure the stubborn idiot doesn't go and do something stupid,"

"Like driving off the edge of a pier?" Tony asked, smirking at his Boss. He was used to a dressing down after a hospital visit, but he'd yet to see Gibbs get a good telling off for his actions; he was going to enjoy this.

"Yes," agreed Brad. "That sort of thing."

"And getting blown up?" Tony added, his grin deepening as Gibbs' eyes narrowed.

"I think he gets the point, Tony. Do you think you or Dr. Mallard can survive him long enough to get him to behave? I may not have done the work on him but that doesn't mean I want him darkening the corridors of my hospital _or_ scaring away my nurses again," the young doctor finished with a pointed look at Gibbs.

"Come on, DiNozzo, get me out of here," Gibbs requested as he got slowly to his feet, ignoring Brad's comments and Tony's look of incredulity at the fact that he was being allowed to leave hospital so soon; he was always forced to stay in his hospital bed for far longer than he needed to be by either Gibbs or Ducky…well, they _tried_ to keep him there at any rate.

"Not so fast hot-shot," Brad pushed Gibbs back down onto the bed and disappeared into the hallway, returning seconds later pushing a wheelchair.

Gibbs scowled at the thing and Tony couldn't help but grin again.

"Hospital policy," Brad insisted. "I'm doing you a favour releasing you now, so you had better behave and do as I say at least until you leave the hospital."

"He will be ok though, right?" Tony asked uncertainly. He didn't like hospitals much either so he could sympathise with his Boss; however, he didn't want the man's health to deteriorate because he was being too stubborn.

"_If_ he takes his antibiotics and the painkillers, comes to his physiotherapy sessions, does his breathing exercises and _takes it easy_…" Brad almost spat out these last few words trying to get his point across to the stubborn older man who was sat glaring at him. "…if he does all these things, then he should be fine. The most important thing is that he doesn't overdo it; plenty of rest is the best medicine for him right now."

"Ok," Tony nodded, trying to take it all in.

"You going to be around to take care of it or do I need to pass all these instructions onto Dr. Mallard?" Brad asked; Gibbs had told him earlier but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

"I'll be here," Tony promised with a steely tone, letting Gibbs know just how firm he intended to be in his care-giving.

Gibbs smiled and sat himself down in the wheelchair. "Now that all of that is sorted get me out of here. I want some food…some _real_ food. Let's go to Sorrentino's; I could do with some nice home-cooked Italian."

Tony shook his head; "And everyone thinks _I'm_ the one with issues about food," he muttered as he grabbed hold of the wheelchair. He gave his thanks to Brad and promised to keep in touch with him about Gibbs' condition.

"Alright," Tony said, once he had placed Gibbs' bag in the boot of his car. "Sorrentino's it is; it will be nice to see her fussing over someone else for a change," he mused.

Gibbs snorted at that; "DiNozzo, that woman _lives_ to mother you!"

_

* * *

_

"I don't know Gibbs," Tony said as he peered in through the windows of his favourite family restaurant. "It looks pretty dark to me, maybe she's closed for the night."

"Don't be stupid DiNozzo, Rosa wouldn't shut this place down even for an hour. Come on," he called, going to the door and pushing it open.

"Boss, I really don't think…"

"SURPRISE!" a loud chorus shouted out and as the lights were flicked back on Tony caught sight of everyone.

Abby was rocking back and forth on her heels, her hands clasped together held in front of her in eager anticipation. Ducky had his hand on Jimmy's shoulder and was talking quietly to the younger man as Jimmy watched Tony's face, nervously trying to gauge his response. McGee was stood to one side with a goofy across his face, while Ziva was sat down nearby looking unsure of what to do with herself.

What really surprised him though, was the old man sat across the table from Ziva; what on earth was Jackson Gibbs doing here? He turned to his Boss and was about to ask the very same question but Gibbs forestalled it, holding his hand in the air firmly indicating 'stop.'

"Palmer organised this for you; he wanted you to have one last team meal in case you decided to go," Gibbs explained. "Abby phoned my father and I invited him here; I wanted him to meet my team. But DiNozzo, that doesn't mean its time for twenty questions; maybe ten if you behave," he added with a grin.

Tony nodded, unsure as to why Gibbs was allowing him this unusual liberty with his Boss' private life. He'd leave the issue alone and promised himself that if he did find himself doing some pretty heavy digging into Gibbs' childhood then he would attempt to rein himself in – easier said than done of course.

He headed towards Jimmy, who, with a gentle push from Ducky was coming to meet him slightly away from everyone else. Tony didn't know what to say; no-one had ever gone to the trouble of organising a surprise party for him before. He'd been to plenty of parties before; ones that he had organised himself, ones that he had been invited to, and some _very_ wild ones that he and his frat buddies had crashed, but never one that was being held in his honour.

"Jimmy, I don't know what…thanks," Tony said with as much heartfelt feeling as he could inject into one word.

Palmer smiled, glad that Tony was ok with the surprise; Tony might sometimes act like a small child, but Jimmy knew that he was not a big fan of surprises.

"It was the least I could do, Bandit," Jimmy said, unsure of what else really needed to be said.

"You didn't have to do anything, but I appreciate it Love Machine," Tony grinned back.

"Ok, very good," mumbled Gibbs, "But can we sit down and get a drink now?"

"Only if that drink is a can of soda," Tony said with a knowing smile.

"Like hell DiNozzo, it can be a beer or it can be a glass of bourbon, but my drink is going to have a damn percentage on the side of the bottle."

It was exactly the reaction that Tony had expected. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a list of _'do's and don'ts'_ from Brad. "No alcohol with your antibiotics," he pointed out gleefully; turnaround was fair play and in his mind he had been waiting a long time for Gibbs to be forced to follow these sorts of instructions, instructions that Gibbs always made sure he followed to the letter.

He walked off to greet everyone else and then went over to Jackson. "Mr. Gibbs," he greeted the old man politely. "How are you doing?"

"Very well, thank you Agent DiNozzo; how about yourself?"

"Tony, please," he insisted. "I'm good," he said and he was he realised that he really was. The future may hold more problems for him with his position on Team Gibbs, but right now the fact that he was not only staying in DC, but that he was staying with these people who meant the world to him, helped ease the heavy burden that he had been carrying on his shoulders for so long now.

"That's good," Jackson nodded; his unfamiliarity with the younger man and his own son's reaction to DiNozzo's possible resignation made him think twice before opening his mouth. Abby had told him that Tony was an excellent agent who respected his son and followed him with a strong sense of loyalty; she also said that he was insecure, especially in regards to Leroy's opinion of him.

Jackson was about to try and initiate further conversation when a heavily accented voice called out. He turned to see that the cry had come from a small woman, so small in stature that Jackson could hardly believe she had such a powerful voice to her.

"Antonio!" Rosa Sorrentino came bustling out of the kitchen and headed over to her favourite customer. She gently grabbed his chin with a small hand and shifted his head so that she could look into his eyes. She was evidently happy with what she saw there, as she grasped his hand and gently led him over to the centre of the room where several tables had been pushed together to make one big one.

"Tony," Ziva greeted from her seat with a soft smile. She enjoyed watching DiNozzo being fussed over by this tiny Sicilian woman; Tony liked attention but not if that attention was focused too closely upon him and his welfare.

"Sit," Rosa demanded.

"Mama…" Tony began.

"Silencio!" Rosa said loudly but not unkindly. "You told me you would not get shot," she pointed out.

"I didn't get shot," Tony mumbled, ignoring the various snorts of disbelief that came from around the table. "I didn't," Tony insisted a little louder. "The bullet _grazed_ my side, that is not getting shot."

Mama Sorrentino raised an eyebrow at that but left it for now. "And the other bullet?" she asked quietly but with a steely tone.

Tony gulped slightly; "You know about the…" he trailed off as he saw Rosa nod her head. "Well, the vest caught that one," he backtracked. "So I'm just a little bruised; that's not really being shot either."

Mama Sorrentino shook her head and threw up her hands in despair and went back to the kitchen, mumbling in Italian as she went. Tony tried hard not to blanch at the thought of her going into total mother hen mode in front of everyone.

Everyone seated themselves round the table and the afternoon turned to evening quickly. Ducky and Jackson had spent a great deal of time talking together and only rarely did their conversation include tales of Gibbs; their naturally verbose natures meant that they were the designated story-tellers for the evening.

Palmer and Abby had spent most of their time entertaining Tony with tales of a new agent on one of the other Major Crimes teams; this agent was apparently more than a little klutzy and definitely lacking in common sense. Everyone agreed that they all wanted to be present when this agent made himself known to Gibbs.

Ziva and McGee had been a little quieter than usual; both were silently trying to reassure themselves that Gibbs was healthy and ok, and that Tony was indeed going to be sticking around for a little while longer.

McGee was sure that DiNozzo would be up to all of his old tricks with superglue and paper-balls in no time at all, but he also knew how much Tony valued this team and so for now Tim was happy to just sit back and watch the Senior Field Agent relax.

Ziva was glad she still had her partner; she liked McGee but she did not think that he yet had DiNozzo's prowess in the field. She recalled when she returned had first returned from Tel Aviv and rejoined Gibbs' team; her partner's absence had hung heavily in the bullpen. The silences were too long and Gibbs' temper was too short; it was during that period when she realised just how much of a buffer Tony created between a pissed off Gibbs and his exposed team.

Gibbs had spent most of his evening with relative silence too. He had interjected when he thought his father's stories about him were straying too far from the truth, or too close. He raised an amused eyebrow at Abby's impression of him meeting a new agent. He watched both McGee and Ziva as they in turn watched Tony and he found himself examining their expressions.

He also paid close attention to his Senior Field Agent, who had endured mothering from Rosa, teasing from Abby and even the odd tale about him that Ducky had insisted on telling Jackson. He wasn't sure what his father thought of his team yet, but he hoped that the man recognised just how important these people were to him; Tony, perhaps, most of all.

He loved Abby and Ducky was one of his oldest friends, both Ziva and McGee were on his team…they were _his_ people! With Tony though…the two of them had been through so much together since the time they first met in Baltimore. Gibbs wasn't sure just how far he would go to help DiNozzo, and sometimes that thought scared the hell out of him.

What he did know was that no matter how scared he got, he would always go the distance for Tony; he just hoped he didn't screw up again and let DiNozzo doubt him for a second time.

_

* * *

_

The darkness had descended a while ago outside; the lively ambience and the aromatic smells coming from the kitchen helped to keep everyone in warm spirits.

Jackson had finished yet another story about his son doing something that he ought not to have been doing; everyone was enjoying these childhood stories of their Boss, whose default expression was one of stoic sincerity.

"I can't believe you brought your dad to this; you must have known we'd spend all our time digging up dirt on you," Tony said, a full smile and merriment dancing in his eyes.

"I figured something like that might happen," the older man confessed.

"And you did it anyway? You sure you only damaged your side? I'm thinking you must have hit your head when you went down."

Gibbs ignored him and looked him straight in the eyes so the younger man could have no doubt that he meant every word. "I also figured that it would be worth it."

"Oh," Tony said quietly, as realisation hit. Between the banter the team tossed back and forth, and the mining expeditions into Gibbs' childhood, Tony had thought that it was good to see two previously estranged men reconnect. He'd never suspected that Gibbs' invitation might also have been for his own benefit.

He liked Jackson, and certainly enjoyed listening to the more colourful experiences of his Boss' childhood escapades. More than that, he liked that he wasn't being made the sole focus of the meal.

He was amazed and touched that Jimmy had spent so long trying to get this meal together. However, at the start of the evening he had worried that he might get a little more attention than he liked. He was staying and to be honest, he would rather not have everyone focusing on his near resignation; Jackson's presence had been a God send.

"You know," Gibbs began, gently resting an arm on Tony's uninjured shoulder. "One day you'll have your own team; hell, it could even be tomorrow now that Vance has finally come around! You'll make a damn fine Lead Agent Tony; I think you'll do far better than I ever could."

"I don't know Gibbs, you cast a pretty big shadow."

"You calling me fat DiNozzo!" Gibbs said sternly, but the twinkle in his clear blue eyes and the twitching corner of his mouth gave him away. "I can get the job done Tony, and I get the whole Marine mentality thing, but you can do that and more; you play nice with the local LEO's and piss off the brass and look after your team in a sometimes suicidal way and you're far better at dealing with people than I will ever be. I'm proud of you, Tony."

Tony didn't know what to say; he was still unused to so much open praise from his Boss. He knew that Vance hadn't told Gibbs anything about the job offer; he might not like the Director but he did seem to be a man of his word. And yet Gibbs still seemed so sure that Tony would be running his own team before long.

He didn't think he was ready for his own team yet; he now knew that he had the ability but he wasn't sure that he was ready for the heavy responsibility that came with leading a team. Maybe next year he would feel different; there was still plenty of time to consider it as a possibility.

"Yeah," Gibbs interrupted his quiet musings and this time he made no attempt to hide the smirk on his face. "You'll do DiNozzo," he nodded to himself, the smirk never leaving his face. With a quiet laugh Gibbs turned and headed back to the table to talk with his father.

"Bastard," Tony muttered, shaking his head but smiling none the less. By the shaking of his Boss' shoulders the older man had obviously heard him curse and found it to be just as amusing.

Maybe things would be ok after all.

_

* * *

_

_**There you go…**__**finally**__** finished! Please let me know what you think. It certainly ended up being a lot longer than I had intended and the ending is a lot different to what I had originally thought, but I figured this one worked best with the story as it progressed.**_

_**Huge thanks to everyone who has read this story, and who has had the patience to stick it out with me to the end.**_

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially the following: TheNaggingCube, thevigilante15, Ann, Gibbs4Eva, NickTonyK, XX-Samantha-XX, scousemuz1k, The Greek Me, angry penguin, Obsessed Pam, Laura-trekie, Sarah1965, The Dream Guardian, Endgame65, diana teo, sarahsrr, Azamiko - who have been following this story from the beginning; your continuing support and feedback has been a real help in both shaping this story, and giving me the drive to finish it.**_

_**An extra special thanks to ncismom, (whose story **__**'A Cry For Help'**__** I thoroughly recommend), tvlover, mamamia1964, catsmeou and gholtlforever for their continuous messages of support.**_

_**An extra **__**extra**__** special thanks to CSIGeekFan for all of the constructive criticism which was particularly helpful for someone with my atrocious grammatical skills, so thanks!**_

_**A few people have already asked about a sequel; there are no plans for a sequel just yet although I would never write it off as a possibility. However, I have been thinking about writing a prequel, not for this story but for NCIS as a whole; the focus would be on DiNozzo and Gibbs meeting in Baltimore.**_


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